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A CIRCUMSTANTIAL NARRATIVE 



*ASTiME Series— Issued Weekly. $13.00 per annum. No. 170. February 25, 189G. 
Entered at Chic ago Postoffice as second-class matter. 


Chicas:o: LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, 263 Wabash Ave. 







ADVENTURES OF 



ABEL BLOW 

A CIRCUMSTANTIAL NARRATIVE 



Chicago 

LAIRD & LEE, Publishers 


N 


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year eighteen 
hundred and ninety-two, by 
LAIRD & LEE, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 

ALL RIGHTS RESKRVED. 


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year eighteen 
hunared and ninety-six, by 
WILLIAM H. LEE, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 


PREFACE 


The following tale has been called wild, improb- 
able, extravagant. It is all of that, and being so is 
a demonstration that “Truth is stranger than fiction,” 
as all its main incidents are drawn from life. The 
camp-meeting scene in particular is denounced as 
absurdly impossible, whereas its literal truth is ac- 
knowledged by all who are familiar with the stage and 
the actors depicted. 

It has been said that many good people will be 
offended at this publication. The author desires to 
disclaim any intention of hurting the feelings of any 
good people, and is at a loss to understand how they 
can be hurt by the exposure of charlatanism and 
hypocrisy, and the laying bare of crying evils and 
wrongs. To no heart are the interests of pure and 
undefiled religion dearer than to that of 

The Author. 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 

L In which the Hero Recognizes his Vocation 9 

II. Which Relates our Hero’s Preparations and Precautions in 

Executing his Designs, with some other Notable Events 18 

III. Which lands Mr. Abel Blow, A. B., where he would be, and 

Mr. Jacob Samuel Smith where he would not be 31 

IV. Which Narrates Events Probably Wholly Unanticipated by 

the Reader 43 

V. Which Pursues the Thread of our Story through Several 

Important and Entertaining Episodes 59 

VI. Which Contains what the Reader will Peruse 71 

VII. Wherein are Recounted the Admirable Successes of Mr. 

Abel Blow, A, B., and the Extraordinary Fortune of 
Mr. J. S. Smith — with Other Things 83 

VIII. In which the Extraordinary Fortune of Mr. J. S. Smith is 

Still Further Developed 95 

IX. Which Explains Something hitherto rather Obscure 107 

X. Which Relates a Disappointment and an Explanation 119 

XI. Which is Merely a Continuation of the Last, as may be Seen 

iu Reading it 133 

XII. Wherein may be Seen the Evangelist in the Capacity of 

Spiritual Director 146 

. XIII. Which Relates some Instructive and Entertaining Episodes 
that bear upon the Further Development of this Rare 
History 158 

XIV. Wherein the Course of Events Pursues the Even Tenor of 

its Way, but not without some Notable Observations 173 

XV. Which Relates how the Great Evangelist attended a Camp- 

Meeting; what he Saw there; and what he Thought 
about it 185 

XVI. Which Relates the Surprising Visions Seen by the Young 

Lady who had the Trance 197 

XVII. Which the Reader may Mistakenly Think to have little Bear- 

ing on the Story 207 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII. Which Follows Faithfully the Course of Time and Circum- 
stances 220 


XIX. Wherein the Hardness of the Unconverted Heart is Clearly 

Depicted 225 


XX. Which Advances Rapidly toward a Crisis in this Veritable 


History 23C 

XXI 246 

XXII 253 

XXIII, “Give the Devil his Due” 263 


Adventures of an Evangelist 


CHAPTER I 

IN WHICH THE HERO RECOGNIZES HIS VOCATION 

“‘What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the 
world and lose his own soul?’ Here is the great ques- 
tion that the spirit puts to every one of us. You are 
business men, practical men and women of the world. 
Here is a practical question for you — a question 
such as you ask yourselves every day about practical 
matters —What shall I make by it? Religion, my 
friends, is a simple question of profit and loss. You 
make the world and lose your own souls. What is 
the profit? It’s hell-fire! It’s the worm that dieth 
not! It’s everlasting torment, damnation and death !” 

These words, and many like, shouted out at the 
top of a stentorian voice, with a prolonged swell on 
the emphatic syllables and a peculiar falling inflection 
on the final word of each sentence, saluted the ears 
of two men who entered the gallery of a building 
where a revival meeting was in progress and seated 
themselves close to the balustrade for the purpose of 
viewing the assembly. They were both men of or- 
dinary appearance, dressed in well-worn street cos- 
tume. 

One of them, who leaned back upon the bench, 
propped his knees against the balustrade and gazed 
intently at the speaker, was a man somewhat above 
the ordinary height, with a rather thin face, pale blue 
eyes, sandy hair and a full reddish-brown beard. 

9 


10 


yIDyENTURES OF AR EyANGELIST 


This was Abelard Blowman, A. B., who in years 
past had taken his degree in the arts at the Univer- 
sity of Mickleton, in the state of Illinois; and, at the 
time spoken of, was following the business of sewing- 
machine agent and public bill-poster in the city of 
Aurora. 

His companion, a man several inches shorter in 
stature, and a number of pounds heavier in weight, of 
dark hair and gray eyes, and an immense mustache 
waxed to a stiff point on either side- of his full mouth, 
rejoiced in the name of Jacob Samuel Smith, with no 
literary appendage, and pursued the avocation of 
delivery cartman for a grocery store; which employ- 
ment, as he possessed a good tenor voice, he varied 
by musical performances in one of the choirs of the 
said city. He sat by his friend Blowman with his 
arms folded upon the balustrade, and his eyes wan- 
dering over the congregation below. 

The house, or church, in which they sat was a 
large, plain building, with immense square windows 
relieving at intervals its blank white walls. At 
the end farthest from the gallery, wherein our friends 
sat, was a raised platform supporting a huge pulpit, 
behind which the speaker stood. He was Mr. Rousem, 
the Evangelist, a man of considerable presence, deep 
voice and immense nervous energy, all of which gifts 
he was bringing to bear upon the crowded audience, 
rushing from end to end of the platform, gesticulating 
like a rail-splitter, and shouting his words in a tone 
that might have been heard a mile. Upon a sofa be- 
hind him sat two ecclesiastics in black coats and white 
vests and neckties. Dr. Stolid, the pastor of the 
church in which the meeting was being held, who, 
with head bent devoutly upon his hand, seemed en- 
gaged in prayer, but was really indulging in a nap, 
superinduced by the late hour and the many lights; 
and Mr. Pleasal with crossed legs, folded arms and 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


11 


neatly shaved face, was gazing intently at the large 
clock which adorned the front of the gallery opposite. 
All these things our two friends in the gallery noted, 
as well as the occasional display of tearful handker- 
chiefs on the part of some of the weaker members of 
the congregation, the deep-drawn sighs, and the pro- 
found amens that issued from the corner to the right 
of the preacher. 

Mr. Rousem at length paused in his discourse, and 
having deliberately wiped his face with a large hand- 
kerchief, drew a long breath and said: 

“My friends, I want to ask you for a contribution for 
the good work. While Brothers Williams and Jones 
pass the plate I will relate a sad occurrence which 
happened while I was conducting a series of meet- 
ings at Erie; and I beg the congregation meanwhile 
to remain seated.” 

In spite of this request, when the gentlemen named 
arose to discharge their office, there was a considera- 
ble stampede at the farther end of the church ; and 
among others our acquaintance, J. S. Smith, arose 
and said to his friend, in an undertone: 

“Come, Blowman, we have had enough of this. 
Let’s go.” 

“No,” answered the other, “not yet. I’ve got an 
idea; and I want to see the end of this business.” 

“Well, I am going,” said Smith, “good night, old 
fellow;” and he stamped noisily downstairs. 

Mr. Abelard Blowman, A. B., did not answer, nor 
move except to take his knees off the balustrade and 
put his elbows upon it, while his pale blue eyes fol 
lowed the plates, as they passed slowly from hand to 
hand, and he went through a mental calculation of 
the amounts that they received, as nickels, dimes and 
ragged bits of fractional currency accumulated upon 
them. One of the collectors at last mounted to the 
gallery and presented the plate before our hero. 


12 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“What is this collection for?” Mr. Blowman asked 
of Mr. Jones, as he fumbled in his pocket and sharply 
eyed the plate, endeavoring to estimate the amount 
of money upon it. It held about. $io and yet had 
finished but half its tour. 

“To pay Mr. Rousem’s expenses,” answered the 
other. “He is a noble worker.” 

“Yes, indeed,” responded Mr. Blowman with a 
deep sigh, droping a nickel into the plate. “I never 
was so touched in my life.” 

“Perhaps you had better stay to the inquiry meet- 
ing, Blowman, it won’t hurt you,” timidly rejoined 
Mr. Jones, with an anxious glance at the sandy hair 
of our friend. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jones, I think I will.” The col- 
lector passed on, while Mr. Blowman resumed his 
posture and his mental calculation, giving not a 
thought to the soul-harrowing story that Mr. Rousem 
was meanwhile bawling out about a young man who 
had almost been converted by himself, but had fallen 
away and gone on a Sunday boating excursion and 
was drowned. All which he related with great unc- 
tion, and with the addition of numberless particulars 
and pious comments calculated to consume the time 
while the collectors were busy. When they had fin- 
ished their labors and deposited the well-filled plates 
upon the pulpit, the speaker wound up the account of 
the funeral and of his own edifying remarks on the 
occasion, by announcing rather abruptly that Dr. 
Stolid would pray. The collection had awakened the 
doctor and he proceeded to pray accordingly. Mr. 
Rousem then gave out the hymn, “Come to Jesus,” 
and invited all who felt interested in their souls to 
take the front seats while the sinners departed. The 
hymn, with its monotonous repetition and wailing 
cadence, was sung; the sinners departed, rustling and 
stamping out on their way to perdition, i. e., to their 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


13 


homes and beds, and a dozen or twenty came and 
seated themselves in the front pews, Abelard Blow- 
man, A. B., among them, with his head laid dejected- 
ly on the back of the pew before him. A prayer was 
then made by Brother Williams at Mr. Rousem’s re- 
quest, after which the Evangelist exhorted the anx- 
ious ones in the pews to “bear testimony.” An 
awkward pause ensued. No one volunteered any tes- 
timony. But Mr. Rousem was equal to the occasion. 
His eye fell on the sandy head of Mr. Blowman, and 
having asked Mr. Pleasal his name, he spoke out with 
a loud voice: 

“Brother Blowman, have you found the Lord.^ 
Put your faith in Him and speak boldly in His be- 
half. We are all His friends.” Thus appealed to, 
Mr. Blowman raised his head and rose slowly to his 
feet. He was not a whit abashed, nor had been for 
many a year, and fixing his eyes steadily upon the 
plates before him, he said: 

“My heart, brethren, is too full for utterance. I 
have lived a very careless and sinful life. I have 
often rejected the message of salvation. I came here 
to-nighra servant of the devil, with my heart full of 
the world, prompted by mere idle curiosity. But the 
things that I have seen and heard have touched me 
to the quick. I repent of my sins. I embrace my 
Redeemer and devote my life to His service from now 
henceforth, so help me God.” 

“Amen,” responded Brother Jones. “Amen,” de- 
votedly echoed Brother Williams, secretly remember- 
ing a balance in his books which he now hoped would 
not prove a bad debt. “Here is a soul snatched like 
a brand from the burning,” shouted Mr. Rousem; “let 
us give him the right hand of fellowship.” Herewith 
followed a general handshaking, after which most of 
the other inquirers, encouraged by Mr. Blowman’s 
example, likewise bore testimony, and the meeting 
broke up. 


14 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


Mr. Blowman, after parting with the brethren, 
walked pensively homeward. His home was a small 
cottage in the outskirts of the city, which he quietly 
entered, hoping that the inmates were asleep. And 
so they were, with the exception of Mrs. Blowman, a 
pale little woman, whose careworn face yet bore 
some traces of the soft curves and delicate color that 
had won the heart of her husband, ten years before. 
She was sitting in her shabby front room stitching bus- 
ily at some ragged little garment and patiently watch- 
ing for her husband’s home-coming. His late arrival 
did not surprise her, for it was seldom earlier; and 
when she heard his hand on the door she ran to throw 
it open, and put her mouth up for a kiss, which was 
carelessly given; she moved out the easiest chair, 
brought slippers and dressing-gown and stood watch- 
ing her husband as he made himself comfortable and 
lighted his pipe. 

“Abelard, love,' you look tired to-night. Have you 
been very busy to-day.?” she ventured to remark. 

“Yes, tolerably,” he replied. She picked up her 
sewing, and sitting down continued: 

“Joseph fell out of a tree this afternoon and sprained 
his ankle so that he can hardly walk. The baby has 
been quite feverish and fretful all day.” 

“Humph!” 

“The help says she is going to quit and wants her 
wages for the last two months,” added Mrs. B., glanc- 
ing apprehensively at the pale blue eyes. 

“Well,” he said after a pause, “I am afraid she 
will have to want. I am flat broke just now.” 

Another pause, then she said: 

“Mr. Williams’ clerk was here this morning and 
said that he could not find you at the office, and that 
if his bill was not paid directly there would be trouble. 
If he stops our credit I don’t know what we shall 
do.” 


ADl^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


15 


“Never mind,” returned Mr. Blowman, reassuring- 
ly; “I think I am all right with Mr. Williams now. He 
won’t be afraid to trust me awhile. The fact is, 
Lucy, I got religion to-night. I went to hear Mr. 
Rousem preach, and made a confession, and I am 
going to lead a different life. There, there, don’t 
make a fuss,” he continued, for at this she had thrown 
herself on her knees at his feet and was weeping her 
thankfulness on his breast. “Don’t cry (kissing her); 
go to bed; I want to think awhile.” 

So the overjoyed wife, with a warm spot on her 
cheek where the unwonted kiss had fallen, and a 
warmer one in her heart at the unhoped-for answer 
of her many prayers, retired to her room to give 
thanks to God and dream of happiness, leaving the 
husband to his meditations. He looked after her, as 
she closed the door, with a half-frown on his face, 
caused by the thought of the expense which she and 
her little ones were to him. The thought brought 
back to his mind the vision of the plates which he had 
seen that evening, so he settled himself back in his 
chair, gazed into the tobacco smoke that curled from 
his lips, and resigned himself to the current of his 
imaginings. Presently, as was not unusual with him, 
he began to think aloud: 

“It must have been at least forty dollars — forty, and 
perhaps more. I saw one bill in the plate. That 
is in every night, nearly. This meeting has lasted 
ten days, and may last ten more. Parsons are poor- 
ly paid. Stolid gets but seven hundred, and they 
have hard work to raise that. Rousem had a meet- 
ing at Smithville the first of the month. They say 
that he was very successful; that means money as 
well as souls, I guess. He is going to Kewanee when 
he gets through here. He keeps busy. Four hun- 
dred dollars in ten days. If Smithville and Kewanee 
do as well, that amounts to about twelve hundred a 


16 


/IDVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


month, expenses too. He is stayinj^^ with Williams 
and living like a lord. I saw him driving out with 
Miss Williams yesterday.” 

Excited by these thoughts, Mr. Blowman raised 
himself in the chair and addressed his pipe argument- 
atively: 

“Now a fellow like Rousem does a great deal of 
good. How much more useful his life is than mine, 
and I am as smart as he is. I believe I can preach 
a better sermon. I was thought a fine speaker at the 
University of Mickleton. Was not I president of the 
Demosthenian Society, and did I not take the junior 
prize in declamation.^ ‘To be, or not to be— that is 
the question. Whether it’s bolder in the mind to 
suffer the — the — Ah, those were jolly times. Then I 
studied law, and I was admitted to the bar; then I 
was married; that was my false step; Lucy was pret- 
ty, and she loved me — I loved her too, I suppose. 
But love and matrimony are very different things. I 
couldn’t support her at the law; I don’t think that 
was my vocation. I tried railroading; I believe I 
should have been a conductor in time, but for that 
spree. Then I clerked in Chicago. Yes, I even 
had to try coal-heaving; but I succeeded better as 
book-agent; I did pretty well at that, till that con- 
founded dog crippled me. So I’ve knocked around 
and wasted my life without a vocation. What am I 
now.? Where are the aspirations of my youth.? I 
thought that by this time I would be in the United 
States senate — agent for a sewing-machine — city bill- 
poster; I owe the company $500; I hate to send it 
on; it will leave me flat. Well, I’ll see about it. But 
why can’t I make my life useful.? I believe I should 
succeed as an evang^elist; think of the happiness of do- 
ing good; I wonder if that is not my vocation.? I won’t 
have to give up the care of my family; forty dollars! 
I can hardly make that much in a month. I shall do 


ADyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


17 


it! It certainly is my vocation. I’ll give myself to the 
service of God.” 

Having reached this conclusion, Mr. Blowman 
paused to felicitate himself and fill his pipe. His 
vocation was found. Everything pointed him to it. 
He wondered that he had never seen it before. Why 
had he been put in the way of obtaining an educa- 
tion — a gift for which he had heretofore found no use. 

Why had he been endowed with elocutionary 
powers — an ability that had stood him in no stead 
since the cessation of his membership in the Demos- 
thenian Society, except to enable him to sell a few 
worthless books at enormous prices. Why did he 
feel this inward moving to embrace the self-sacrific- 
ing life that opened before him.? Certainly all these 
things were proofs that his vocation in the world was 
that of an evangelist. It was all plain now. Often 
he had wondered and doubted what purpose he was 
intended to serve in the world. He wondered no 
longer. He doubted no longer. Come what might 
an evangelist he would be. He raised his heart a 
moment in devout thankfulness to God that he had 
been led to the light, and then turned himself to the 
consideration of such detailed plans as might enable 
him to enter successfully upon the new path of life 
which he was resolved to follow. After having spent 
some time in this pleasing occupation he retired to 
his bed and his dreams, in which congregations, 
travels, sermons, souls and collections were mixed in 
inextricable confusion. 


Adventures 2 


CHAPTER II 


WHICH RELATES OUR HERO’S PREPARATIONS AND PRE- 
CAUTIONS IN EXECUTING HIS DESIGNS, WITH 
SOME OTHER NOTABLE EVENTS 

Mr. Blowman awoke the next morning after the 
events narrated in the last chapter, little rested by 
his slumber, and not in the best possible humor. 
Having succeeded in spreading his mental cloud over 
the whole family, he sallied out, after a disagreeable 
breakfast, to begin carrying his designs into execution. 
He went first to his office, which he opened and swept, 
not being able to employ a clerk to perform these 
necessary functions, and then sat down to look over 
the morning paper. While so engaged, he heard a 
slow and heavy step climbing the stairs which led to 
his place of business, and his companion of the night 
before stood in the doorway with a cloudy face and a 
dejected air. Mr. Blowman looked up as he appeared, 
and took in his despondent mien and also the fact 
that his usual work-day costume of calico sleeves and 
a canvas apron was replaced by his holiday garb of 
gray twilled. So he remarked with some surprise: 

“Hello! Smith, old fellow, what’s the matter.!* 
Not at work to-day.!* What has happened.!* You look 
as somber as a tombstone. Come in and sit down. 
I am glad to see you. I was about to hunt you up.’* 
Mr. Smith, still standing in the doorway, looked 
Steadily at the other a few moments in silence, and 
then said: 

“Blowman, are you my friend.!*” 

18 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


19 


course,” was the surprised answer. 

“Yes, I know,” rejoined Mr. Smith, “we have been 
friendly enough as the world goes; but a friend in fine 
weather is one thing, and a friend in stormy weather 
is another thing. I have never cared much whether I 
had friends or not. • I never needed any till now. 
I am a stranger in Aurora — and everywhere else, for 
that matter. True enough I have plenty of acquaint- 
ances, but now I want a friend, and when I look 
around to find one, I don’t see any that I can trust, 
except it may be you, and I don’t feel very certain 
of it. Now I ask you, in all seriousness, though you 
may think me a fool for my pains, are you my friend — 
a friend I can trust .?” 

“My dear fellow,” said Mr. Blowman, arising and 
taking him by the hand, “you are not mistaken in 
me; I assure you that I am your true friend; one 
that will do anything to serve you. Friendship is a 
tie stronger with me than any bond of blood. It is 
the holiest relation on earth. Sit down and tell me 
your trouble, for I see you are in trouble. I divined 
it before you spoke a word. Have you lost your 
place.?” 

Mr. Smith seated himself despondently, leaned his 
elbows on his knees and took his head between his 
hands, then answered: 

“Yes. But I don’t care for that. Places like mine 
are easily got.” He paused awhile, and then raising 
his head he continued almost fiercely: “I’ll trust you 
anyway, Blowman. I must tell somebody or I’ll die.” 

“You may be certain of me. Smith,” responded Mr. 
Blowman. “I am as true a friend as you have in the 
world.” 

“That is saying enough to a poor devil with no 
friends,” said Mr. Smith. “But I’ll trust you. You 
know, Blowman, I have been driving Mr. Williams’ 
delivery wagon for six months past.?” 


20 


ADyENTURES OF Ah! EVAhlGELIST 


“Yes,” assented Mr. Blowman. 

“And you know Dolly — I mean, Miss Williams.?” 

“Yes,” again replied Mr. Blowman wonderingly. 

“Well, I have seen a great deal of her. I had 
to go to the house on some errand or other every 
day, and I took a fancy to her, and joined the 
Methodist choir where she was singing; and the re- 
sult has been that I have fallen desperately in love 
with her, and she with me.” 

“It’s my opinion,” interposed Mr. Blowman, “that 
there is no cause for despondency. She is a fine girl, 
beautiful, intelligent, cultivated, rich, and all that a 
man could desire in a wife. And love, in itself con- 
sidered, is a great blessing, the crowning joy of human 
life. A heart without love is a very wilderness. I’m 
convinced, by long observation, that nobility, truth, 
purity, zeal, fidelity — in short, virtue — can only be 
looked for in a soul possessed by an absorbing love. 
It is the fountain which wells all human excellence, 
and thus I understand those lines of Tennyson: 

“’Tis better to have loved and lost 
Than never to have loved at all.” 

“Don’t interrupt me, please,” answered Mr. Smith; 
“I don’t care a pin for Tennyson just now; and when 
I have told you all you may judge whether I have 
reason to be glad or sorry. Dolly and I have been 
confessed lovers for some time. But she is very much 
afraid of her father’s disapproval, so, although I saw 
her nearly every day, it had to be secretly. Last 
night, after I left you at the meeting, I went around 
to see her, and as bad luck would have it, the time 
went too fast or the meeting broke up too soon, for 
the first thing we knew her father and Mr. Rousem 
came through the front gate and caught us sitting in 
the shadow of a tree in the garden with my arm around 
her waist. There was no running away. It was 
bright moonlight, and he knew me before I saw him. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


21 


I expected him to fly into a rage and order me off the 
place, but he did nothing of the sort. He was as cool 
as if he expected to see me, and said, ‘Oh! good even- 
ing, Smith. I hope you are well. Daughter, it is 
rather imprudent for you and Mr. Smith to sit here 
in the dew; don’t you think you had better go into 
the house Walk in. Smith.’ 

“I was considerably taken back, and said, ‘Thank 
you, Mr. Williams, it’s rather late, I think I had bet- 
ter be going.’ But he said, ‘Don’t go yet, I beg 
you. Smith. I’d like to have you make the acquaint- 
ance of Mr. Rousem, and have a little music. Do 
walk in. ’ 

“So in I walked, but horribly uncomfortable. He 
introduced me to Mr. Rousem as an intimate friend and 
employe of his, and insisted that Dolly and I should 
sing some hymns. After awhile, Mr. Rousem retired, 
and as soon as he was gone Mr. Williams said, ‘I am 
very much surprised and pained, my daughter, to 
have found you and this gentleman in such a place 
and posture as I did, and I wish to know what it 
means. ’ 

“Dolly tried to speak, and burst into tears, so I 
spoke up: ‘It means, Mr. Williams, that we are in 
love. ’ He did not look at me at all, but at Dolly, 
and asked quietly, ‘Do I understand, my child, that 
you are in love with Mr. Smith.?’ 

“Yes, papa,” she sobbed. 

“‘You pain me inexpressibly, daughter,’ he said, 
‘I can hardly believe that you would keep such a thing 
from me. Now tell me, my dear, frankly, how long 
has this thing been going on.?’ 

“Miss Dolly was crying too hard to answer, and I 
said, ‘For about three months, sir. Miss Dolly ain’t 
to blame. We met one another all the time at choir- 
meeting and just fell in love with one another. I 
didn’t mean to say anything to her until I had told 


22 


ADVEl^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


you how I felt, but somehow I couldn’t help it, and 
afterward she was afraid to have me tell you. The 
blame is all mine if there is any. ’ Still not looking 
at me he said: 

“‘Does this gentleman speak the truth, my child 

“‘Yes,’ she answered between her sobs, ‘indeed, 
indeed he does, dear papa. I didn’t mean any wrong. 
I couldn’t help loving him, and I know he loves me 
honestly and truly. ’ 

“‘Very well, my darling,’ said Mr. Williams, T be- 
lieve you, so to bed now and I will talk the matter 
over with Mr. Smith.’ 

“When she was gone, he spoke to me for the first 
time and said, ‘Under these rather unlooked-for cir- 
cumstances, Mr. Smith, I am naturally somewhat 
anxious to be better informed about you than I am. 
Our acquaintance is but a few months old, and I 
know you merely as an honest cartman with a good 
voice, qualities that in my judgment hardly fit you to 
become an aspirant for the hand of my daughter. I 
must therefore beg you to answer me a few questions. ’ 

“‘Certainly sir,’ said I. 

“‘Will you please then tell me something about your 
family and antecedents.?’ 

“‘I have no family,’ I answered; ‘my mother died 
when I was a child, and my father was a small farmer 
in Virginia, who lost all his property during the war 
and died soon after. If I have any other relatives I 
know nothing of them. ’ 

“‘Humph!’ said he; ‘well, a married man is expect- 
ed to support a family. What property have you.?’ 

“‘None,’ I answered, ‘except myself.’ 

“‘What have you in yourself.?’ he asked, ‘have you 
a profession, trade or occupation .? Have you educa- 
tion or character — anything that will serve as capital 
whereon you may. reasonably hope to support my 
daughter in anything like the station of life which she 
now occupies.?’ 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


23 


have neither profession, trade, education nor 
character, ’I answered. ‘I grew up during the war 
where I could get nothing but a very ordinary com- 
mon-school education. I was but a boy when my 
father died, and since then I have earned my living 
anyhow and anywhere opportunity offered.’ 

“He paced the floor in silence a few minutes, and 
then said, ‘Then, Mr. Smith, I understand the mat- 
ter thus: By your own confession you are nothing, 
and you have nothing. You are a vagabond and an 
adventurer. You entered my employ, and in a secret 
and dishonorable manner have contrived to win the 
affections of my daughter, hoping with her to marry 
a fortune. I have not words strong enough to ex- 
press my contempt for you and your conduct. You 
will please call upon my book-keeper for your wages 
to-morrow, and I beg that henceforth you will not 
intrude upon me or my family. Good night, sir, ’ and 
he opened the door for me to pass out. What could 
I say or do.^ What he said was harsh and unjust, 
but I felt that it was true from his stand-point. If I 
were in his place I should, no doubt, think as he does, 
and should have behaved a good deal worse than he 
did. But I am not an adventurer nor a sneak, and I 
love Dolly with all my heart. What shall I do about 
it, Blowman.J*” 

“Yours is a hard case,” said Mr. Blowman, “and 
illustrates well the old saw about the course of true 
love. Can you not persuade the lady to run away 

“Never!” said Mr. Smith, positively, “that would 
give Mr. Williams good reason to call me an advent- 
urer. Nothing could persuade me to do it, though I 
never see her again.” 

“Humph,” ejaculated Mr. Blowman, “you are more 
nice than wise, in my opinion. But let every one 
stick to his principles ; there is nothing like principle 
as a guide of conduct. However, I see no reason for 


24 /iD^ENTURES OF y4N EyAhlGELIST 

despondency. I think I can arrange this business for 
you. I will go around to see Mr. Williams and talk 
over the matter with him. There is no reason, as far 
as I can see, why he should not give you Dolly, and 
take you into the firm as junior partner, and make 
everything all right. I think he will listen to reason, 
and I will go immediately to see him. Come in, about 
two o’clock, and I will let you know my success.” 

“Well, just as you say, Blowman,” answered Mr. 
Smith, “but I don’t hope for much in that direction.” 

He did hope, however, in spite of his assertion, 
and departed with a much lighter heart, while Mr. 
Blowman betook himself to the residence of Mr. 
Williams. 

A tidy servant-girl answered the bell, from whom, 
in answer to his inquiry for Mr. Williams, he ob- 
tained the information that the gentleman, accom- 
panied by his daughter, had departed for Chicago on 
the morning train, and that Miss Dolly was to go on 
to Buffalo to spend some weeks with her aunt. 
Having learned all that he could in this direction, Mr. 
Blowman asked for Mr. Rousem, and was shown into 
the parlor, where he found Mr. Rousem and Dr. 
Stolid apparently in the midst of a warm discussion. 
Dr. Stolid looked anything but pleased at the inter- 
ruption, but the evangelist seemed not a little re- 
lieved, and arose to shake hands with Blowman, 
saying: 

“Ah! This is the gentleman who witnessed so good 
a confession last night. A noble thing, sir! Con- 
sider what a power for good your example may prove 
with the sinners of this city. The sinners, sir! How 
many wandering feet it may guide from the city of 
destruction. I am glad to see you, sir, glad to see 
you.” Mr. Blowman, much impressed, humbly re- 
marked: 

“I am indebted to you, sir, for whatever good I 


ADVEhlTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


25 


have done, as well as for the blessing I have found. 
You led me to form my resolution to lead a higher 
life, and I come to you for advice about my future 
course. I have determined to make a perfect work — 
to give myself wholly to the Lord’s service, and — ” 

“I rejoice,” Mr. Rousem interrupted, “I heartily 
rejoice to hear this noble resolution — truly noble reso- 
lution; make no half-way work of it, sir.” 

“And,” resumed Mr. Blowman, “I desire to obtain 
your advice how best to begin the work.” 

“You must excuse me, sir,” said Mr. Rousem, “from 
giving any but the most general advice. I do not 
assume any blasphemous sacerdotalism” (with a tri- 
umphant glance at Mr. Stolid, who winced visibly); 
“I do not arrogate to myself the divine prerogative of 
inspecting consciences; I presume not to thrust my-' 
self between the soul and his God — his God, sir. I 
am simply a voice, sir, a voice in the wilderness. My 
mission is to cry, simply cry, sir; perhaps Dr Stolid 
can advise you; I will leave you with him; I don’t 
wish to intrude, and I have some business that de- 
mands attention. Good morning, sir, God bless you, 
sir,” and Mr. Rousem retired. Dr. Stolid gazed after 
him a moment with a not altogether angelic expression 
on his face; but this soon vanished and he turned to 
Mr. Blowman with a smile, saying: 

“I shall be glad to be of any assistance to you, Mr. 
Blowman. In what particular direction are you in 
need of advice.?” Mr. Blowman was not a little vexed 
at the retreat of the evangelist, whose advice he par- 
ticularly wanted; but, seeing nothing else to be done, 
answered: 

‘Doctor, I have decided to give the worthless re- 
mainder of a misspent life to the service of God, and 
am persuaded that I have a vocation to preach the 
gospel.” 

“Indeed,” ejaculated the doctor, in surprise; “but, 


26 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


my dear sir, it would require a considerable time of 
preparation to fit you to enter the ministry; and you 
have, I think, very small means, and quite a large 
family to support. I do not mean to discourage you, 
but merely wish you to apprehend the difficulties in 
the way.” 

“Yes, sir,” answered Mr. Blowman, “but I do not 
desire to enter the ministry exactly. I thought that 
I might do service in a humbler sphere as an evan- 
gelist.” 

The doctor sat silent a few moments as though ex- 
pecting more and then answered: 

“I am sorry that I can give your project no encour- 
agement, Mr. Blowman. It cannot be disputed that 
evangelists do some good in their way. But theirs is 
a work altogether exceptional and outside the regular 
field of ministerial labor, and it can only be effectually 
performed by men of peculiar gifts who are raised up 
to it by the very special providence of God — with a 
vocation, in fact, altogether unmistakable. I fear it 
would be, at least, rash for you to undertake such a 
work with so little premeditation, and on so sudden 
an impulse. Search your motives, Mr. Blowman; I 
fear for them. Since you have asked my advice I 
venture to recommend that you continue in your pres- 
ent state of life, and show forth by your patience and 
zealous well-doing the reality of your change of 
heart, before you attempt to take any higher work 
upon you.” 

Mr. Blowman felt mortified, even angry — in fact, 
snubbed. His first impulse was to swear, but he 
managed to control it, and contented himself with 
thanking Dr. Stolid for his kind advice, and took his 
leave. He felt dejected and thwarted. He had hoped, 
by the aid of Mr. Rousem, to obtain easy entrance to 
the pastures that opened so fair before his mental 
vision. That hope was destroyed, and he perceived 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELISM 27 

that the entrance he descried was not so easily ob- 
tained. Yet he did not give up hope, but walked 
thoughtfully to his office, revolving the matter in his 
mind, and sat down to adjust his disordered plans. 

This work he had about concluded when Mr. Smith 
entered, in pursuance of his appointment. He had 
already learned all that Mr. Blowman had discovered, 
about the movements of Mr. Williams, and proceed- 
ed to narrate it in the sympathizing ears of his friend, 
concluding with the intimation that he was' reduced 
to such a condition of despair that life was no longer 
valuable. Mr. Blowman heard him through, and 
then said: 

“Smith, you are a fool. Don’t be downhearted, 
man. Dolly loves you, and you have no reason for 
despair. You don’t doubt her affection, do you.^” 

“Not at all,” answered Mr. Smith. 

“Very well, then,” continued Mr. Blowman, “that 
is the main thing. While you are sure of that, you 
ma}^ be sure of everything. In a year or so, she will 
be of age and can do as she likes; and even if she 
should refuse to marry you without her father’s con- 
sent, yet that is not impossible to obtain. There are 
only three things that he cares for, religion. Miss Dolly 
and money. He will do a great deal for religion, a 
good deal more for Miss Dolly, and anything for money. 
All that you need in order to get his consent to the 
match is money. So cheer up. I have a plan that 
will make us both rich in a little while, if you will go 
into it.” As Mr. Smith listened, his face brightened 
visibly. 

“You’re right,” he said, “things may come out favor- 
ably after all; let’s have your plan.” 

“Perhaps you know,” continued Mr. Blowman, 
“that I got religion last night. Well, I have deter - 
mined to go out and preach the gospel as an evange- 
list. You shall accompany me as a singer, and we can 


38 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


make plenty of money, besides doing, what is of more 
consequence, a world of good.” 

“I don’t see any money in that,” remarked Mr. 
Smith in a disappointed tone, “and besides, I didn’t 
get religion.” 

“Well, you are not to preach,” answered Mr. Blow- 
man, “but to sing; and you do that every Sunday 
without religion, and there’s money in it. Not that 
I care for the money; I want to do good, and this 
seems the best way to do it; but you want money. 
Now, suppose we should preach, say twenty nights 
in every month, with a collection every night. The 
people crowd to these evangelist meetings, and come 
down handsomely; so we may fairly suppose that the 
collections would average forty or fifty dollars a night, 
but to be moderate let us say twenty. That’s your 
hundred dollars a month — and expenses paid, of 
course, for we would be entertained and dead-headed 
everywhere. If, at the worst, we averaged only five 
dollars a day, you can’t make fifty dollars a month 
clear of expenses in any other way.” 

“That’s a fact,” assented Mr. Smith, with rising in- 
terest. “Your plan seems reasonable as far as money 
is concerned. But I don’t see how you can put it 
through. You can’t preach, and even if you could, 
you have no reputation or backing as an evangelist, 
and nobody here will go out to hear you.” 

“Don’t be afraid,” rejoined Mr. Blowman. “Leave 
the preaching to me. One who feels that love of souls 
which has now been implanted in my heart can easily 
find words to express it, and men to hear him. Will 
you join me.? I’ll guarantee you against any loss. 
If you won’t go in, say so. If you will, then I will 
tell you the rest of the plan.” 

“Yes, I’ll go in,” answered Mr. Smith. “I’m in for 
anything now. I don’t care much what.” 

“Well, then,” said Mr. Blowman, “that is settled. 


^D^ENTURES OF /IN EyANGELIST 


29 


Now, of course we can’t do anything here. ‘A prophet 
is not without honor save in his own country. ’ We 
must go where we are not known; somewhere a long 
way off. I propose Texas. I have cash enough to 
take us there, and it will be better for us to adopt 
some norn de plume in order to prevent our friends 
here from interfering with our success when our names 
get into the papers. I have concluded to drop the 
last syllable of my name and call myself Abel Blow, 
A. B., and you can t^ke any name you like.” 

In spite of his despair, Mr. Smith laughed no feeble 
smile, whereat his friend, rather nettled, remarked 
with hauteur: 

“I fail to perceive anything ludicrous in this plan, 
Mr. Smith. Efforts for the salvation of sinners are not 
generally calculated to provoke mirth.” Mr. Smith 
checked his laughter, and answered: 

“Excuse me, Blowman, I meant no offense, but I 
think that my name is so common that it is useless 
to change it.” 

Mr. Blowman, mollified, resumed: 

“There is little more to say except that we must 
provide ourselves with stylish black suits and white 
ties to correspond with our occupation. And this is 
very important for our success, for nothing influences 
the mass of men like dress, and if you can be ready 
by that time I think we had better take the late train 
south to-morrow night.” 

Said Mr. Smith: “I am with you; but let us have 
this thing distinctly understood. You are going into it 
lor any reason you choose to say — religion, or doing 
good, or saving souls, or what not. I am going in for 
money. I am not religious and don’t pretend to be. 
You must do all the religion, preaching, praying, talk- 
ing pious, and all that. I am to do nothing but sing. 
Of course I won’t swear, or disgrace you in any other 
way; but I object to taking a false name. I don’t 


30 


ADVEhlTURES OF EVANGELIST 


owe a cent and am free to go where you like if I can 
do it honestly.” 

“As for debts,” answered Mr. Blowman, “I owe a few 
hundred dollars; but I shall soon be able to pay that, 
and as to changing my name I don’t see anything out 
of the way about that, since I do it for a good pur- 
pose. By the way, Smith, it won’t be necessary to 
mention our leaving or its object to anybody, and it 
might have the effect of hindering our pious designs. 
I shall tell my wife that I have business that takes 
me to Chicago for a few days.” 

In such conversation the afternoon wore away and 
the friends separated for supper with an appointment 
to meet at the evangelist’s meeting that Mr. Smith 
might have ocular demonstration of the pecuniary 
possibilities embraced in Mr. Blowman’s plan; and 
as the congregation happened to be large and enthu- 
siastic, he saw enough (in the plates) to persuade him 
that if they succeeded reasonably well, however few 
or many souls they might save, they would certainly 
save enough cash to indemnify them for the labor. 


CHAPTER III 


WHICH LANDS MR. ABEL BLOW, A. B. , WHERE HE 
WOULD BE, AND MR. JACOB SAMUEL SMITH 
WHERE HE WOULD NOT BE 

The hour agreed upon for their departure having 
arrived, our two friends were seated side by side in 
the smoking-car waiting for the starting of the train, 
when Mr. Blowman, who had been looking out at the 
car window, arose hastily, and remarking in an under- 
tone: “You don’t know where I am. Smith,” 
made a rapid exit. Mr. Smith looked around sur- 
prisedly, and just as Mr. Blowman disappeared, one 
of the principal merchant tailors of the city, accom- 
panied by an officer of the law, came up to the window 
and looked in. 

“Good evening. Smith,” he said, “which way.?” 

“Coming down the road a short distance,” answered 
Mr. Smith evasively. 

“Have you seen anything of Blowman.?” inquired 
the tailor. 

“Not lately,” responded Mr. Smith. “Why.?” 

“Why.?” said the tailor; “I think he is trying to 
beat me out of a hundred-dollar suit of clothes. He 
came in while I was out at dinner to-day and bought 
the finest suit I had in the house, promising the clerk 
to bring in the money in the morning. I found out 
that he had been selling off his sewing-machines and 
everything else salable that he had, for anything he 
could get in cash, and I believe he is trying to slide 
out. He won’t get away from me, though, if I can 
31 


33 


ADyENTURES OF AN EFANGELIST 


help it.” And the irate tailor passed along on his 
quest, leaving an extremely disgusted sensation with 
Mr. Smith. While he was doubting whether the tailor 
had succeeded in apprehending his companion, the 
train started, and presently Mr. Blowman reappeared 
and took his seat. 

“Did you see Mr. Brown.?” inquired Smith. “He 
was looking for you.” 

“No, was he.?” said Mr. Blowman, “how unlucky I 
was not to see him. I sold him some machines to- 
day and took part of the pay in a suit of clothes. He 
promised to bring the balance here in time for the 
train, and I was watching for him, and thought he 
had failed me I’m vexed not to have seen him, for 
I wanted the money, but I’ll write him to pay it over 
to my wife.” 

Mr. Smith scratched his head pensively and said 
nothing. After a time he lit a pipe and gazed quietly 
out of a window at the dim moonlit panorama of 
broad fields and endless fences that danced rapidly be- 
fore his eyes, while, in his mind, he was trying to 
fathom the man who was slumbering at his side. Was 
he a swindler and a rogue, or was he a true Christian 
inspired by a lofty motive.? Should he believe his 
story or the tailor’s.? The problem was too much for 
the not-over-acute intellect of Mr. Smith. He want- 
ed to believe in Mr. Blowman’s integrity, so finally he 
concluded to do so, and disposed himself to imitate 
his example and sleep, as circumstances allowed. 

Nothing worthy of special notice occurred during 
the tedious days and more tedious nights spent in 
traveling across the monotonous prairies of Illinois, 
Missouri, Kansas and the Indian Territory. It would 
have been highly proper for our companions to have 
profitably employed their leisure in noting and com- 
menting upon the physical features of the country 
passed over, considered in its scientific, esthetic, and 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


33 


economical aspects, the agricultural resources and 
prospects, and the political conditions and problems 
of its several sections, for which pursuits their ride 
gave ample opportunity,. But to the everlasting 
detriment of future generations, the two companions 
employed their time in eating, sleeping and smoking, 
filling up the interval by chatting with such of their 
fellow passengers as proved affable, and endeavoring 
to gather from them some definite facts about the re- 
ligious condition of the promised land — Texas. 

The only annoyance that Mr. Blow suffered upon 
his journey, arose from the attentions of the train 
boy, that indefatigable human mosquito, which infests 
the inland routes of travel of the United States. O 
that some suffering scientist would investigate his 
natural history! Early in the morning of the first day 
of his journey this misguided insect selected Mr. 
Blow as his victim. He presented a box of cigars, 
“fifteen cents apiece, or two for a quarter.” Then 
followed apples, oranges, nuts, candies, sweetmeats 
and other tempting edibles. The assault was in vain. 
To every solicitation, Mr. Blow steadily shook his 
head. The sagacious tempter paused to consider; he 
had evidently mistaken his victim’s disposition. He 
regarded the incipient evangelist steadily, from the 
opposite end of the car. “That traveler must have 
money. Yes, he is well dressed. He is not weak in 
the stomach, that is plain. He is a family man; he 
looks like one; he is on his way home.” Having 
reached this conclusion the mosquito buzzed up to 
the attack with a box of vegetable ivory trinkets. In 
vain; then another of Indian bead-work; then another 
of prize packages, each of which contained a hand- 
some and valuable piece of jewelry. All in vain, and 
again he contemplates his victim from the end of the 
car. “Mistaken I am! Must be a literary man.” He 
now descends with papers, magazines and books, the 

Adventures 3 


34 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


Police Gazette, the illustrated weeklies, the True 
story of the Robankil Brothers, Dickens’ novels. The 
Descent of Man; all sorts of literature are one after 
another skillfully presented to Mr. Blow’s considera- 
tion. But he considers them not, except to glance 
at the delicate illustrations of the first mentioned. 
At last, in despair, the baffled train boy began to gath- 
er up the merchandise which he had heaped up beside 
Mr. Blow and inquired: 

“Won’t you take any of these, sir.?” 

“No, thank you.” 

“Is there anything else you would like to read.? I 
have quite a stock on board.” 

“No, I thank you.” 

“Don’t you want something to read.?” 

“No, I thank you.” 

“Well,” said the train boy in a loud tone, and with 
an expression of intense disgust: “Well, I thought 
you were a reading man;” and departed, leaving 
his victim sound in pocket, but writhing under an 
inexpressible sensation of shame and mortification 
at his exposure before his fellow-passengers as not 
a reading man. 

On the following day, however, kind fortune gave 
him an opportunity of redeeming his character in this 
particular. A gray-headed, be-spectacled old gentle- 
man occupied the seat in front of him. 

For a while he perused a book that he had taken 
from his traveling satchel; but presently he dozed off 
into a nap, and the book fell from his hand. He was 
suddenly awakened by the brakeman calling out the 
name of the station at which he wanted to stop, and" 
seizing his satchel he hurried out, forgetting his book. 
When he was gone, Mr. Blow picked up the book and 
examined the title page. It read: “Sermons of the 
Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, of London, England; Second 
series.” Turning to the table of contents, he found 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


35 


that it contained some thirty-seven sermons, the last 
of which fascinated him by its attractive title, “Turn 
or Burn.” He turned to it and began to read. He 
read it through, and after some reflection read it again 
and yet again. After an hour or so of diversion, he 
went back to the work and read another sermon en- 
titled “A Visit to Calvary,” then again re-read the 
charming disquisition on turning or burning. He re- 
peated over and over half aloud the text, “If he turn 
not, he will whet his sword; he hath bent his bow 
and made it ready.” In fact, he began to memorize 
the sermon, which task, having a good memory, he 
had pretty well accomplished by nightfall. 

This book was quite a godsend to Mr. Blow; with- 
out it he might have spent that day in the dullest 
fashion, for the. train was almost deserted, and Mr. 
Smith sank hourly deeper into the dumps. He ate 
little, smoked less, and slept scarcely at all, but spent 
his time gazing fixedly out of the window at the whirl- 
ing landscape. Not that he was interested in the 
racing trees or the circling plains; his outward vision 
was simply a blank, while his occasional deep-drawn 
sighs showed that his inward vision was not engaged 
upon a pleasing object. In short, he saw but one 
object everywhere. On the sides of the cuts, on the 
grassy plains, on the arching heavens, on woods and 
waters, was stamped the figure of Dolly Williams, 
and, with the downcast air and wistful eyes that had 
last looked upon him from her father’s parlor-door, 
it seemed to be going farther and farther from him, 
and about to fade into hopeless distance. He was 
in despair. He mentally anathematized himself time 
and again, for voluntarily going so far from her, and 
felt that every mile he traveled was seriously dimin- 
ishing his chances of ever seeing her again. More 
than once, he almost made up his mind to get off at 
the next station and take the first train back — being 


3G ziDyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

restrained from so doing only by the thought of his 
obligation to his friend, who was defraying his ex- 
penses. He voted himself a stupid fool for ever em- ^ 
barking in such an enterprise, which, the more he 
thought of it, the more he felt sure could only end in 
disastrous failure, and anyway must put him into the 
position of a hypocrite and impostor. He pictured 
to himself the anticipated meetings, the church crowd- 
ed with pious and anxious souls, longing for the truth 
and striving after holiness, and imagined himself stand- 
ing before them on the rostrum, amidst a group of 
earnest. God-fearing ministers, and singing the songs 
that meant everything to them, and nothing to him; 
and the idea filled him with aversion and self-disgust. 
He would have given anything to be out of .it, but 
what could he do.^ He was bound to the bargain by 
the strongest bond that he knew on earth — pecuniary 
obligation, and he could not go back. Filled with 
such reflections, the ride to Texas was anything but 
a pleasant experience for Mr. Smith. 

All things come to an end, though, and so, at 
last, did this journey. 

It was a July morning, with a blazing sun staring 
down at them out of an unwinking Texan sky, when 
the train which had borne them so far disappeared 
with a rush and a roar and left them standing upon 
the station-platform of the city of Dallas. Their im- 
mediate care was to take an omnibus, which soon 
landed them at a hotel, where they at once proceed- 
ed to rid themselves of the unavoidable dirt that the 
unlucky railroad-traveler acquires; to shave, and to 
array themselves in their heretofore unused evangel- 
istic attire of faultless broadcloth and white ties. 

“Do you not think,” inquired Mr. Blow of Mr. 
Smith, “that it would be better to divest yourself of 
that mustache.? It does not look very ministerial.” 
Mr. Smith was standing before the mirror complacent- 


yiD^ENTURES OF AF! EFANCELIST 


37 


ly twisting that facial ornament into two excessively 
long, slender spirals. It was his darling and his 
pride; the suggestion of its destruction was more than 
human nature could endure. He turned sharply on 
Mr. 'Blow: 

“It was agreed before we started that I was not to 
do the ministerial. I don’t want to look ministerial. 

I don’t intend to pretend to be ministerial in any way. 
If anything of the sort is necessary, I had better quit 
now, before I begin!” 

“Well, well!” rejoined Mr. Blow, “it’s not neces- 
sary. Don’t be vexed at nothing. It is absurd to 
talk about quitting now; we have gone too far. "for 
that. Hurry up with your dressing. We ^nave no 
lime to lose. We must make arrangemccmts to begin 
at once, if possible.” 

“What are you going to do "now.?” inquired Mr. 
Smith in a more subdued mamner. 

“Going,” said Mr. Blow, “ to call on the most prom- 
inent minister of the chur^ch in town, and get the use 
of his building and influ .ence. It will be hard to do 
anything without him.’ ’ 

Ht won’t be nece.'^jsary for me to call, will it.^” again 
inquired Mr. Smith • 

“Certainly it wil-1,” answered Mr. Blow. “We must 
impress him with a show of numbers.” 

Accordingly, biaving ascertained which was the 
largest church in the city, and where the minister re- 
sided, Messrs. B low and Smith made their call with- 
out delay. The y were shown into a neatly furnished 
parlor, and prer'^ontly the minister entered. He was a 
faultlessly dres^^ed little man, with a clean-shaven face, 
broad, bald for ehead and a timid manner. Mr. Blow 
stepped forward to meet him. 

“Do I have !^he honor of addressing Mr. Difdence.?” 

“Yes, sir,” rissented the little man with a smile. 

“The paster of the Methodist church in Dallas.?” 


38 


y4DyENrURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“Yes, sir,” again assented the smiling little man. 
‘This meeting affords me very great pleasure, sir,” 
went on Mr. Blow. “I have often heard your name 
mentioned by the Rev. Mr. Jones, J. Y. Jones, for- 
merly of Maine. Probably you know him, sir.?” 

“I don’t recollect of having met him, sir,” hesitat- 
ingly answerd the little man. 

“He evidently knew you,” rejoined Mr. Blow un- 
abashed, “for he frequently spoke of your ability and 
zeal. But, sir, I neglected to introduce myself; my 
name is Blow, sir, Abel Blow, A. B. I have the honor 
be an evangelist, and to preach of the unsearch- 
able i riches of Christ in a most unworthy fashion, 
but so, sir,' as to save some, yes, I trust many, souls. 
It delights me know that you are one absorbed in 
the same holy intex^est, and I feel honored by your 
acquaintance” (seizing' the little man’s hand, and 
shaking it heartily), “anJ I hope that we may be able 
to support one another in i^he good fight. Allow me 
to introduce my companion, Mr. Difdence, Smith, 
Jacob Samuel Smith. Mr. Sm/th is one whose sweet 
songs have touched many hear ts with the fire of 
divine love.” 

Mr. Difdence and Mr. Smith shook hands silently 
while Mr. Blow continued in a loud rone: 

“You may never have heard of us, Mr. Difdence. 
Our names may be strange to you, for rhough we have 
labored long and effectively in the gc»od cause, and 
turned many souls to righteousness, it has ever been 
in a modest, quiet way, with no courting of notoriety, 
with no sounding of trumpets and flau.nting of ban- 
ners. Our field of labor has been chiefly in the North 
and East, though not without excursions westward, 
and one or two campaigns in the South. I have long 
heard of Texas and its gloomy spiritual ccmdition, and 
often wished to do something to uphold t he hands of 
those who struggle with its wickedness in high places; 


^D^ENTURES OF AF! EVANGELIST 


39 


and at last I resolved, when I finished my last great 
meeting in New York — which resulted in over seven 
thousand conversions — that nothing should keep me 
longer out of Texas. 

Mr. Blow paused to take breath, and remark the 
effect of his harangue. Mr. Smith was listening with 
amazed consternation to the story of these unheard-of 
achievements, but with a studied effort to suppress 
his feelings, and his eyes fixed on the floor. 

Mr. Difdence was gazing on the speaker with grow- 
ing wonder and respect depicted on every feature. 

“Ah, indeed!” he said. 

Mr. Blow continued: “I hesitated a long time 
as to whether it would not be better for me to 
go right on to Galveston, where I have many in- 
fluential acquaintances, but finally concluded that it 
would be wrong to leave unreaped fields behind me, 
so I determined to stop here and see if I could lend 
any assistance to the gospel cause in your city. Not 
that I do not know that it is ably supported in your 
hands, assisted by those of your brother ministers, but 
the history of evangelistic effort demonstrates that an 
experienced and eloquent stranger can reach multi- 
tudes that the ordinary ministrations of settled pas- 
tors fail to touch. I never, however, allow myself 
to interfere in the slightest way with the regularly 
recognized ministry, nor to lift a finger without their 
consent and approval; though I know their zeal for 
the salvation of souls too well to suppose that they 
could discountenance any effort, however humble, 
to win a sinner to God, and pluck a brand from the 
burning.” 

“Of course not,” assented the little man gravely. 

“Consequently,” went on Mr. Blow, “I came at 
once to you, knowing your commanding position in 
this community, to beg your permission to testify to 
the sinners in Dallas the love and mercy of God,^and 


40 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


make an humble effort to gather a few sheaves into 
the Master’s garner. I hope my poor offer may not 
seem to you utterly worthless.” 

“I shall be happy to aid you in any way in my 
power,” said Mr. Difdence, “though I fear I can do 
but little tb further you.” 

“Thank you, thank you,” responded Mr. Blow, 
“you are very good. I expected no less from the good 
reports I have heard from you: You can do a great 
deal. You have no objections to allowing us the use 
of your church for our meetings.?” 

“I suppose not,” said the little man doubtfully. 

“I assure you, sir, it will greatly help your congrega- 
tion,” said Mr. Blow confidently. “The churches 
where our meetings are held often double their mem- 
bership, though we never preach sectarianism. In fact 
we belong to no denomination. Charity forbids us to 
recognize denominational lines. We are all brethren 
in the church. We will use your church because it is 
the largest in the city and 1 would not like any soul to 
be lost for lack of room. If the other ministers are 
displeased I shall be very sorry, but I cannot help it.” 

“Very true, sir,” again assented the little man. 

“And now, as I am anxious to lose no time, may I 
ask you to introduce me, this afternoon, to the other 
ministers of the city, that I may invite their co-oper- 
ation with your consent; and you will oblige me greatly 
by putting a notice of the meetings in the daily papers. 
I think we had better begin to-morrow night, at eight 
o’clock, say, if that hour suits you; and if we could 
have a lot of little hand-bills struck off and distrib- 
uted in the streets with invitations to come to the 
meetings it might be very useful. I have found it 
so in many cases, and, by the way, the assistance of 
your organist, if it could be obtained, would be very 
valuable.” The little man assented to everything. 
He was taken by storm. He felt as though a strong 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


41 


hand were laid upon his shoulder and he was forced 
along to obey the will of a superior being. Mr. Blow’s 
suggestions were commands and his commands were 
obeyed. 

Seeing his entire subserviency, Mr. Blow ven- 
tured after awhile to remark on the discomfort of 
living at a hotel, and intimated a desire to find a pri- 
vate boarding-house. Mr. Difdence took the hint, in- 
sisted on entertaining them both, sent straightway to 
the hotel for their baggage and made himself respon- 
sible for the bills which they had contracted there. 
Indeed he felt that he was richly repaid for so doing, 
for, under the influence of Mr. Blow’s untiring and 
glowing rhetoric, he began to fancy his congregation 
already doubled, and its revenues swelled accordingly. 
The afternoon was spent in visiting the ministers of 
the city. Introduced by Mr. Difdence, our pilgrims 
were well received on all sides, Mr. Blow taking good 
care that no one should know how recent this ac- 
quaintance was. No one refused to take part in the 
meetings, except the rector of the Episcopal church, 
who received them courteously, but stiffly and prompt- 
ly declined to take an interest in the proposed move- 
ment. At last, well wearied, Mr. Blow and Mr. 
Smith were alone together, having both been assigned 
to one bed. 

“How in the world, Blowman,” said Mr. Smith, 
“could you tell such magnificent and preposterous lies.? 
I could hardly hold myself while you were talking to 
Mr. Difdence this morning.” 

“Excuse me. Smith,” rejoined the other, “you must 
not call me Blowman. My name now is Blow. I 
have told no lies. A lie is a departure from the truth 
with the intention of injuring. I have departed from 
the truth with the pure intention of benefiting. 
Nothing else would do. If I had told Difdence that 
we wanted to begin on him, he would have declined. 


42 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


No one likes to be experimented on. His influence 
is indispensable, and we have got it and will do good 
with it. No one can disprove my statements. I 
have given no names or dates. New York is a large 
place, and you will see that my seven thousand imag- 
inary converts there will make some real converts 
here. Can you think the means wrong which secure 
such good results.^ I cannot.” 

Mr. Smith heard, his conscience was appeased, 
and both slept the sleep of tired nature. 

The next morning, the daily papers contained the 
following announcement: 

“The earnest and eloquent Evangelist, Mr. Abel Blow, 
A. B. , assisted by that sweet singer of Israel, Mr. 

J. S, Smith, will begin a series of Evangelist 
Meetings at the Methodist church . 
to-night at 8 o’clock. 

Let all true lovers of the gospel cause come out and 
hold the fort ! 

‘Come, drink wine and milk without money and with- 
out price. ’ 

Soul-stirring preaching! Heart-moving singing!! 
Free redemption ! ! 

Salvation, O, Salvation! 

The joyful sound proclaim.” 

Handbills of the same tenor were freely distributed 
through the city. Evening came, the church was 
filled, the people flocked in till there was no room left. 
In due time the evangelist arrived, and, escorted by 
Mr. Difdenceand reluctantly followed byj. S. Smith, 
with a copy of Gospel Hymns under his arm, was with 
difficulty marshaled through the crowded aisle and 


AD^EhiruaES OF AN EVANGELIST 


43 


seated in the post of honor upon the pulpit, platform, 
supported by two ministers gravely posted on either 
side. Thus arranged they awaited the opening mo- 
ment — the people in eager anticipation, the ministers 
in serious expectation, Mr. Blow in triumphant exulta- 
tion, and Mr. Smith in uneasy alarm and dejection. 


CHAPTER IV 


WHICH NARRATES EVENTS PROBABLY WHOLLY UNANTIC- 
IPATED BY THE READER 

Following the time-honored custom of such histories 
as this, it would be highly proper to introduce here 
a narrative relating to the fate of Miss Dolly Williams, 
or her father, or Mrs. Lucy Blowman, or her children, 
or Mr. Brown, the tailor, or his business. Something 
was doubtless happening to one or the other of these 
at the very moment reached at the the end of the last 
chapter, which to know is of the greatest importance 
and interest to the readers of this truthful record. 
Miss Dolly does not know where her lover is. Mrs. 
Blowman does not know where her husband is. Mr. 
Brown does not know where his suit of clothes is. 

The narrator, however, neglecting the anxiety and 
suspense of those three important personages, pre- 
sumes to break away, at whatever risk, from the 
venerable custom before mentioned, with utter dis- 
dain of chronological order. 

Mr. Abel Blow, A. B., is now sitting in the pulpit 
of the Methodist meeting-house in Dallas, prepared 
to preach his first sermon. As he and his worthy 
supporters arranged themselves upon the platform, 
a lull fell upon the rustling and buzzing of the con- 
gregation, and grew deeper and deeper until a pro- 
found silence ensued. 

Mr. Blow gazed upon the congregation, and the 
congregation stared fixedly at him. The ministers 
about him contemplated the floor with staid solem- 
44 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


45 


nity. Mr. Smith buried his head in his hands in 
trembling despondency, and the silence continued. ^ 
All waited expectantly for Mr. Blow to begin, a fact 
of which that gentleman gradually grew uneasily con- 
scious, but he could not think for his life what he 
ought to do, so he did nothing, and the silence re- 
mained unbroken. After some ten minutes, an im- 
patient hum began to arise from the waiting throng, 
and the ministers to look toward Mr. Blow with an 
expression of surprised inquiry. He sat still silent, 
while an expression of uneasy vexation gradually 
took, on his face, the place of the former exultant 
confidence. Five minutes more passed like hours, 
and some of the most restless, who stood near the 
door, went out noisily. At this signal, Mr. Difdence 
bent over and whispered to our hero: 

“Brother Blow, don’t you think it is nearly time to 
begin The people are growing impatient.” 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Blow, also in a whisper, “what 
shall we do.? Ah, I mean, will you please be kind 
enough to conduct the opening exercises.?” 

“It’s better that you should do it,” rejoined Mr. 
Difdence. 

“Impossible!” said Mr. Blow, “I am entirely unac- 
customed to these things — that is, I am always used to 
having a minister open the meetings; please com- 
mence.” The impatient hum of the congregation rose 
louder and louder. Mr. Difdence arose to his feet 
and stepped into the pulpit, where he stood impress- 
ively silent, a flush gradually suffusing his face, 
until quiet was restored. Then he said: 

“Dear sisters and brethren, we are assembled here 
to night to worship God, and do honor to the coming 
among us of his most eminent servant and evangelist, 
the Rev. Abel Blow, who will shortly address you. 

I earnestly hope you may be both entertained and in- 
structed by the eloquent effort of this justly renowned 


46 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


and most convincing preacher of the unadulterated 
truth, and that you will hear him favorably and char- 
itably He comes to bring us a special outpouring of 
the Spirit in our midst. Let us then begin the exer- 
cises of the evening by praying the Lord of the har- 
vest that some droppings of the showers of blessings 
that he sends by this powerful champion of the truth 
may fly like a ray of the sun of righteousness into the 
darkness of unconverted souls and so wound the 
hardest conscience that the flood of penitential tears 
may ascend like incense before the Majesty on high. 
Let us pray.” 

Mr. Difdence proceeded to pray in the tenor of his 
introductory remarks. Then he gave out the hymn, 
“Am I a Soldier of the Cross,” reading the whole of it 
and directing that three verses should be sung. Mr. 
Smith, quaking with nervous dread, arose to start the 
tune, when to his inexpressible relief and the annoy- 
ance of the congregation, the organ pealed out and 
the choir began singing. The hymn finished, one of 
the ministerial brethren arose at Mr. Difdence’s re- 
quest and read from the Bible, with frequent and 
lengthy energetical interpolations, the vision of the 
dry bones, from the Prophet Ezekiel. This exercise 
lasted about half an hour, to the manifest weariness 
of the people, and the intense disgust of Mr. Blow, 
whose confidence had returned, and whosp anxiety 
to perform his part of the exercises he could scarcely 
contain. Then followed the long prayer by Dr. Up- 
right, who consumed some twenty minutes more, 
another hymn was sung by the choir, and then the 
supreme moment arrived. Mr. Difdence said, “Sisters 
and brethren, I have the honor to introduce to your 
kind attention the great evangelist. Rev. Abel Blow, 
who will now address you.” Mr. Difdence sat down. 
Mr. Blow arose; a strange commotion of feelings filled 
his breast — exultation at the success of his plans — 


ADVEl^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


47 


nervous embarrassment at his unaccustomed position 
— both these struggled for the mastery. 

But, far below these, was an uneasy dread of the 
deeper consequence of his action. He had accidentally 
opened the Bible that day to a text that he had 
never before heard of: “No man taketh his honor 
upon himself; but he that is called of God as was 
Aaron. So also Christ glorified not himself to be 
made a high priest.” 

The words rung in his ears and he was almost ready 
to descend from the platform with his design unac- 
complished. He hesitated, he cleared his throat, he 
opened the Bible and began to search for the seventh 
Psalm. After a long time he found it. He could 
delay no longer; he must speak. He looked at the 
ceiling and said: “Friends — ah — dear friends: It is 
with pleasure that I stand before you to-night. I 
hope that we may be — ah — taught by God’s word. 
You will excuse me if I — a — give out my text. It is 
found in the seventh chapter of the Psalms of — a — 
of the book of Psalms. 

“If he turn not he will whet his sword; he hath 
bent his bow and made it ready. If the sinner turn 
not God will whet his sword. So, then, God has a 
sword, etc.” There was no longer any hesitation 
in Mr. Blow’s manner or speech. Confidence re- 
turned ; the hundreds of eyes before him inspired him; 
his memory served him well; Mr. Spurgeon’s clear- 
cut thoughts, striking imagery, and living personal 
appeals flowed from his lips a stream of real eloquence. 
The vast crowd listened spell-bound. The ministers 
one after another shifted their positions that they 
might see his face, and listened with rapt astonishment. 
Mr. Smith forgot his embarrassment, his self-disgust, 
his absent love, everything but the sermon. He had 
never heard such a discourse before, and the same 
was probably true of every one present. He was 


48 


VENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


deeply moved; and when, after nearly an hour, Mr. 
Blow sat down, he stood up almost involuntarily and 
began to sing, “Sinners, turn, why will you die?” 

Mr. Smith had a good voice, and its rich tones, in- 
spired by the emotion behind them, were irresistibly 
affecting. The whole congregation rose and joined 
in the hymn, while sobs and groans were heard all 
over the house. Mr. Blow contemplated the scene 
with pride, mingled with vexation. He was vexed 
that his sermon, which he was conscious of having 
delivered well, had not excited the uncontrollable en- 
thusiasm that was brought out by the music, and his 
mortification was presently deeper still, for whispering 
to Mr. Difdence to follow the hymn with a few re- 
marks, that gentleman answered, “No, I would spoil 
it all, but I see a brother in the congregation who is 
just the man — I did not know that he was in town — 
Dr. Holiton — call him up and he will bring out the 
mourners.” When the hymn was concluded Mr. 
Blow arose and said: 

“Will Brother Holiton come forward and address 
the meeting?” 

Thus appealed to, Brother Holiton, a tall, square- 
set, heavy man, with bushy eyebrows and a large red 
beard, came slowly and solemnly to the platform, 
and after facing the congregation for some moments 
in silence, began: 

“Our dear brother has well said that God has a 
sword,” and went on until he had repeated in sub- 
stance, not in style, the whole of Mr. Blow’s borrowed 
discourse. His language was rough, coarse, often 
ungrammatical, but in spite of his harsh diction, the 
effect was almost miraculous. The house resounded 
with sobs and outcries. “Amen!” “Oh, God!” “Lord, 
have mercy on me!” “Jesus, save me!” and a thou- 
sand other ejaculations interrupted the speaker from 
all sides. The congregation became terribly excited ; 


ADVEhfTURES OF AN EyANGELlST 49 

some sprang to their feet, some fell on the floor, some 
threw themselves on their knees. Every one seemed 
touched. Mr. Blow contemplated the scene in utter 
amazement. What was the secret of this man’s 
power.? His language was barbarous. He was mur- 
dering the sermon. His delivery was simply wretch- 
ed. As Mr. Blow gazed upon him, now divested of 
his coat, gesticulating like mad, and literally yelling 
his words at the top of a powerful voice, he was al- 
most ready to believe that Dr. Holiton was trying to 
parody his sermon. But the Doctor was evidently in 
deep earnest, and the congregation too; and there 
was some unmistakable and wonderful power in Dr. 
Holiton’s address, for even Mr. Smith sat openly sob- 
bing aloud, the tears streaming down his face, and he 
making no effort to govern or conceal his emotion. 
Even Mr. Blow himself could hardly resist the con- 
tagion of excitement. 

The great voice thundered along a few moments in 
clarion tones, then broke into slower rhythm and dwin- 
dled away to a sound almost equally divided between 
a whisper and a sob. Again it swelled in volume and 
rose in pitch to its highest point and again sunk away 
like The lull in a gale of wind, and with it arose and 
fell almost every heart within the influence of its 
sound. Mr. Blow was moved in spite of himself by 
its weird cadences, was angry with himself for being 
moved, and was confused at the effect produced on 
the congregation, and moreover vexed beyond meas- 
ure to see how impotent his own really elegant de- 
livery was beside this sensuous roar. But he felt 
that Mr. Difdence was right: Dr. Holiton was the 
very man to bring’ out the mourners. Before he had 
concluded, a weeping crowd was kneeling around the 
pulpit. “Sing,” said Dr. Holiton, as he sat down, to 
Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith arose and with quivering lips 
and shaking voice began the pathetic song, “Even Me.” 

Adventures 4 


50 


ADyENTURES OF AN EFANGELIST 


“Now,” said Mr. Difdence to Mr. Blow, when the 
song was ended, “don’t you think we had better dis- 
miss the congregation and pray r;ith the mourners 

“Presently,” answered Mr. Blow, “I wish to make 
a few remarks first,” and stepping forward he began: 
“Dear brothers and sisters — Before we part I desire 
that you should all unite in a practical deed of serv- 
ice to God. I do not speak of my own necessities 
nor those of my dear Brother Smith. God knows 
them as well as those of the families who depend up- 
on us. We have freely devoted our lives and prop- 
erty to his service, and spent what we had in travel- 
ing to proclaim His blessed gospel. For ourselves, 
I repeat, I care nothing. God will provide for us and 
our helpless little ones so long as we faithfully serve 
Him. 

“But I desire a collection to be taken up that all 
may have an opportunity of showing the earnestness 
of their hearts. A man’s religion is never real till it 
reaches his pocket. Give to God freely and he will 
freely give you. Will some brother pass the plates 
while we sing ‘Come to Jesus.?’” 

Mr. Smith heard these remarks with a feeling akin 
to disgust, and looked at Mr. Blow with an expression 
of vexed remonstrance, but Mr. Blow nodded to 
him coolly and called out, “Sing, Brother Smith.” 
So Brother Smith sang, but not very heartily, while 
Mr. Blow handed the plates to some gentlemen near 
the pulpit and started them at the collection, osten- 
tatiously putting a dollar into one of the plates him- 
self, then sidling up to Mr. Smith he said, in an un- 
dertone: 

“Sing louder, Smith; keep up the excitement; this 
will pay handsomely. Keep it going till the collec- 
tion is done.” 

The collection, in which Mr. Blow took what 
pains he could that no one should be passed by, not 


/tOyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


51 


even the mourners kneeling around the pulpit, was at 
last concluded, and the evangelist saw with great con- 
tent that it testified to the existence of a goodly 
amount of practical piety on the part of the congrega- 
tion. Then, after a prayer by one of the ministers 
present, Mr. Blow invited all who preferred “turning 
to burning” to remain and take the front seats, and 
all who were desirous of helping on the salvation of 
souls to stay and pray with the anxious ones. A very 
large part of the congregation remained in their seats. 
Several prayers were then offered by different persons 
at Mr. Blow’s request. Some hymns were sung, and 
twelve of the mourners professed themselves to have 
experienced religion and found peace in believing. 
One of these, a forward young man, began to ha- 
rangue his fellow mourners, and exhort them to come 
out on the Lord’s side, a good deal in the style of 
Mr. Holiton, and with so much effect that Mr. Smith’s 
tears began to flow afresh, and he sprang to his feet 
exclaiming: 

“Yes! Yes! It is true! The only hope for the poor 
sinner is in the mercy of God, and the blessed blood 
of Christ. There is no chance of mercy unless we 
confess our sins, and turn away from them. I have 
a word to say that must be said!” 

Mr.. Blow was struck with horror lest Mr. Smith, 
in his enthusiasm, should make some confession that 
would seriously interfere with their success, and sprang 
to his side crying: 

“Say it in song, Brother Smith, say it in song. You 
speak to the soul; best to sing ‘Just as I Am;’ and 
immediately began the song himself though but an in- 
different singer. All joined in and Mr. Smith’s mouth 
was stopped for the present and as soon as the song 
was over Mr. Blow announced that the meeting was 
at an end for the evening. He at once proceeded ex- 
peditiously to transfer the contents of the plates to 


53 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


his own pockets, and taking Mr. Smith on one arm 
and Mr. Difdence on the other, said: 

“Come, brethren, we need rest to prepare us for 
our further labors.” 

“Come, Brother Holiton,” said Mr. Difdence, 
“come and stay with us to-night.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Blow, “do come; your presence with 
us this evening was as delightful as it was unexpected. 
I hope that you may be able to remain throughout 
the meetings, and lend your able assistance in gath- 
ering these precious sheaves.” 

“Fm sorry,” answered Dr. Holiton, “that I can’t 
stay with you to-night. Brother Difdence. Your 
hospitalities are always agreeable, but Fm bound for 
Millican by the night-train on big church business. I 
couldn’t stay if Spurgeon himself was to preach (with 
a meaning glance at Mr. Blow that made him quiver) ; 
so good night!” and away went Dr. Holiton toward 
the depot, and our friends toward the residence of Mr. 
Difdence. 

“You seemed touched to-night,” remarked Mr. Blow 
to Mr. Smith when they were alone. 

“Yes, I was,” answered the other; “I never in my 
life felt how guilty a sinner I am, and how hopeless 
my prospects for the next world. Indeed I never 
thought much about the next world. What shall I 
do, Blowman.? You are a Christian. You seemed to 
feel what you preached to- night. What shall I do 
to get right with God.^* I feel that there is something 
wrong about our doing this work. How wicked I am 
that I could go into it for the prospect of making 
money out of it. I wanted to tell the congregation 
all about my wrong-doing. I felt as if every one of 
them was a saint compared with myself. But I am 
done with it now. I can’t go on in any such hypoc- 
risy.” Mr. Blowman paused a moment and then re- 
plied: 


ADVEhlTURES OF AH EVANGELIST 


53 


“Please, Smith, remember not to call me Blowman. 
From now henceforth I am simply Mr. Blow. I feel 
for your religious scruples deeply. I am rejoiced that 
you see your sins and want to be rid of them. But 
I think you will do very wrong to desert me and our 
good undertaking now, just when we are beginning 
to do good. It was wrong, undoubtedly very wrong 
for you to undertake this holy work in the spirit in 
which you first entered it. But the work itself is 
good, and done from a pure desire to serve God. It 
is the best thing that you can do for him. We have 
saved twelve souls already, and shall save many 
more. You have a great talent in this direction and 
it would be a sin not to use it. But pray be care- 
ful to do nothing so rash as to make any public con- 
fession of the sort you mentioned. It would ruin 
our work entirely. Confess to God. He alone can 
forgive you. Give yourself to Him, and resolve to do 
this work for no unworthy motive, but for His glory 
alone. Doing it so we shall both have peace and 
joy, and I am convinced that He will bless us with 
provision for our wants, as well as a harvest of souls. 

I shall be able to support my family, and you will 
soon save enough to enable 3^ou to command Mr. 
Williams’ respect and marry Dolly. We must have 
collected between fifty and sixty dollars to-night. 
Dou’t you think we had better kneel down and pray 
over it Mr. Smith assented and Mr. Blow offered a 
long and earnest prayer, after which both retired to 
rest. 

On the following evening the meeting was as crowd- 
ed as before, but not so enthusiastic. Mr. Blow 
preached another of Mr. Spurgeon’s sermons, “A 
Visit to Calvary,” from St John xix: 5, — a most touch- 
ing discourse which he had spent the day memorizing, 
secluding himself for that purpose on the plea of 
fatigue. He was listened to as before, with the most 


54 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


rapt attention. His hearers were deeply touched, 
but not excited. Dr. Holiton was absent. The for- 
ward young man was also missing and Mr. Smith’s 
songs, though sung with deep feeling, and backed 
with the most fervid exhortation that lay in the power 
of Mr. Difdence and the two other ministers present, 
failed to awaken any great degree of enthusiasm. 
The collections were notably less than on the evening 
before, and were signalized by the noisy departure of 
a great many of the more illiberal. The mourners 
did not exceed a dozen, and were all those of the 
night before, with one exception, a fine-looking young 
lady dressed in a handsome suit of black silk trimmed 
with crape, who seemed most deeply affected, sob- 
bing bitterly, and praying aloud for mercy for her sins. 
Four bore testimony and professed to have found the 
Savior, and among them was the fine-looking young 
lady, who made a speech of some length, in which she 
said that she had been converted four times already, 
but that she felt that she had rested on a false hope; 
her experiences had been vain and she had deceived 
herself; for never had she known the rapturous bliss 
and sweet peace that now filled her soul. And she 
exhorted her fellow mourners to give up every effort 
to do right and to feel right, and just leave it all to 
the sweet Savior, who would take them for his own. 

As Mr. Blow was pocketing the collections, after 
having dismissed the meeting, the lady came forward 
and begged the honor of his acquaintance. She in- 
troduced herself as Mrs. Weekhart. She was a 
stranger in Dallas, had been visiting some friends in 
Fannin county; passing through Dallas on her way 
home, she had heard of the meetings and resolved to 
stop over while they lasted, in the hope of obtaining 
a blessing. Her great delight was attending revivals 
and camp- meetings; she loved the holy association 
of souls whom she met in such places. Poor, dear 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


55 


Mr. Weekhart rather opposed her desires in this re- 
gard (tearfully.) He never made a profession of re- 
ligion, though he always treated ministers of the 
gospel with respect. Sometimes, indeed, he spoke 
lightly of religious matters, especially of camp-meet- 
ings, but he was not irreligious; he always read the 
Bible on Sundays, and prayed every day, and he seemed 
to die in peace, and she hoped he might be saved. 
Would Mr. Blow and Brother Smith go on to Waxa- 
hatchie when they were through in Dallas She 
was sure they could do so much good. Her home 
was there, and she would be delighted to entertain 
them. A relative of hers was the agent of the stage 
line, and their expenses would be absolutely nothing, 
and they might save so many souls. She had ex- 
perienced a great blessing herself, and was anxious 
that her friends should share it. Would they come.? 

Mr. Blow heard her with great interest. He was 
delighted to know her. He rejoiced in the blessing 
that she had gained. He hoped that she would per- 
severe more and more. He was anxious to get on to 
Galveston as soon as possible, but hardly dared to re- 
fuse to enter any door that the Lord opened for him. 
He might be able to go to Waxahatchie. He would see 
her again about it, and so they parted. The meet- 
ings continued for several days, but grew rapidly 
smaller and less enthusiastic. Mr. Blow preached 
beautiful sermons and in his best style, but the min- 
isters absented themselves, and the people stayed 
away, while the contributions dwindled down to com- 
paratively nothing. The same mourners presented 
themselves night after night, but none were convert- 
ed. Mr. Blow was inwardly discouraged and Mr. 
Difdence visibly down-hearted. Sunday came and 
with it large congregations. Mr. Blow preached 
morning and night with great fervor. But still the 
excitement of the first meeting was wanting. Almost 


56 


^D^ENTURES OF AN Ef^ANGELIST 


nobody stayed to the anxious meeting. The collec- 
tions were good and Mr. Blow pocketed them as 
heretofore. As they came out of the meeting-house 
after the evening service, the deacon called Mr. Dif- 
dence aside and had a long conference in an under- 
tone, the only part of which that reached Messrs. 
Blow and Smith as they stood waiting for Mr. Dif- 
dence, and conversing with Mrs. Weekhart, was the 
deacon’s words rather sharply spoken: ‘‘Your fault 
— strangers — no right — collections — lost. ” 

On the way home Mr. Difdence was silent and ab- 
stracted, Mr. Blow was talkative and jubilant and 
Mr. Smith puzzled and disconcerted. 

After they were seated in Mr. Difdence ’s neat little 
parlor, that gentleman, having several times begun 
to say something and abruptly broken off, at last asked 
Mr. Smith if he would kindly retire, as he wished to 
have a private talk with Mr. Blow. Mr. Blow re- 
marked that he had no secrets from his dear Brother 
Smith. But the latter retired, nevertheless. Being 
alone with Mr. Blow, Mr. Difdence, with reddening 
face and downcast eyes, said: 

“I hope you will excuse me, my dear friend, but — 
pray, do not be offended, but — ” 

“Certainly not, certainly not,” interrupted Mr. 
Blow calmly. “It is impossible for me to take offense 
at anything you may have to say.” 

“It is very painful for me to have to say it,” con- 
tinued Mr. Difdence, truthfully, “and I hope you will 
not be vexed, but the fact is, Mr. Countmuny, the 
deacon of my congregation, thinks that as the regular 
Sunday collections are a part of the usual revenue of 
the church, that they should go into the hands of the 
treasurer of the congregation.” 

“Very true,” assented Mr. Blow, putting his hands 
into his pockets, “I see no reasonable objection to 
that theory.” Mr. Difdence waited expectantly a 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


57 


moment, but as Mr. Blow’s hands still remained in 
his pockets, he continued hesitatingly, still growing 
redder in the face; 

“Mr. Countmuny is a man of very methodical hab- 
its, and finding the money gone when he went as us- 
ual to empty the plates to-day, he was rather unreason- 
ably, I thought, vexed with me.” 

“Very unreasonably,” answered Mr. Blow, settling 
his hands deeper into his pockets, “very reprehen- 
sible of Mr. Countmuny, in my opinion.” 

Again Mr. Difdence waited in vain for some motion 
of Mr. Blow’s hands, but, seeing none, he went on 
with a strong effort, his face red as fire and as hot : 

“And Mr. Countmuny insisted that I — that I should 
ask you for the money — ” 

“Is it possible,” exclaimed Mr. Blow in a sympa- 
thizing tone, “that he could be guilty of such imperti- 
nence! I wonder that you could restrain your anger.” 
A long and awkward pause ensued, broken at last by 
Mr. Difdence, who, with a painful struggle and an 
uneasy change of posture, remarked: 

“I hardly feel. Brother Blow, that Mr. Countmuny 
is altogether wrong.” 

“Indeed,” answered Mr. Blow promptly and easily, 
“you are greatly mistaken then; consider the matter a 
moment. I grant of course that all the regular col- 
lections of your church belong to the church revenues, 
but the collections taken to-day are not of that 
character as appears for several reasons. In the first 
place, you voluntarily tendered me the use of the 
church for my meetings, which was very kind of you 
and I appreciate it highly, but it necessarily put your 
own meetings in abeyance, as making me the pastor 
for the time being. Secondly: the congregations 
were not your regular congregations. Most of your 
people were probably there, but the great majority 
came solely to hear me preach. Thirdly: all the 


58 


ADVEl^TURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


good people who contributed gave their money for a 
special object. I took pains to have it distinctly un- 
derstood at our first meeting that the collections were 
to be applied to defray the expenses of myself and 
Brother Smith. To allow them now to take any other 
direction would be equivalent to an abuse of trust, of 
winch crime I trust neither you nor I would be guilty. 
As it is, they are altogether insufficient to meet the 
expenses that we have incurred in coming to Dallas; 
but that is a matter of no consequence. I never count 
the cost of my efforts to do good.” 

“You are right,” rejoined Mr. Didfence with a de- 
jected air, “I see you are right. I wonder that I did 
not see the matter so before, and I beg your pardon 
for mentioning the disagreeable subject. I hope you 
won’t take offense.” 

“Of course not,” said Mr. Blow cheerfully; “I am 
glad you spoke of it, for I should be sorry to leave 
any wrong impressions behind me. Good night, sir. 
You must be tired.” 


CHAPTER V 


WHICH PURSUES THE THREAD OF OUR STORY THROUGH 
SEVERAL IMPORTANT AMD ENTERTAINING 
EPISODES 

It began to be rumored in Aurora that Mr. Blow- 
man, the sewing-machine agent and bill-poster, had 
absconded, and that for some unaccountable reason 
the delivery cartman of P. Williams & Co. was gone 
with him. Some, however, affirmed that the cart- 
man of P. Williams & Co. had eloped with his em- 
ployer’s daughter, and that Mr. Williams had taken 
the bill-poster and gone in hot pursuit. One lady 
affirmed that she was in Chicago when the chase 
passed through; that as she was entering one of the 
principal hotels a close carriage drove rapidly away 
from the door with a gentleman inside and a lady 
who, as well as she could see through the window, 
and a carefully drawn veil, closely resembled Miss 
Dolly Williams. The gentleman she saw plainly, and 
as she did not know him at all he might have been Mr. 
Smith, whom she could not remember ever having 
seen; and moreover, she had seen in the register with 
her own eyes the entry of “S. S. Jacobs and wife, St. 
Louis,” and the chambermaid told her that they were 
a loving young couple, who arrived at the hotel the 
day before, left that day (on which she saw the car- 
riage drive off) in great haste to catch the train for 
Niagara. Now it was plain that S. S. Jacobs was 
a false entry for Jacob S. Smith; and moreover, 
about two hours after these occurrences she positively 
59 


00 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGEUSI 


saw Mr. Williams enter the hotel with a man who 
looked like Mr. Blowman, as well as she could re- 
member him, and, in a few moments, the two had 
come out again and driven off in a carriage in a direc- 
tion opposite to that taken by the first carriage. All 
of these things convinced her that the elopement 
theory was a true one. 

Mr. Brown, the tailor, affirmed that this hypothe- 
sis was untenable, for Mr. Blowman and Mr. Smith 
had been seen together in town the day after Mr. and 
Miss Williams’ departure; nor would he believe that 
Mr. Blowman and Mr. Smith had gone together, or 
knew anything about each other’s movements, for he 
had seen Mr. Smith on the train the night he started 
and had convinced himself that Mr. Blowman was not 
aboard that train. 

Mr. Smith, he thought, had gone elsewhere to seek 
employment, and Mr. Blowman had fled perhaps to 
Canada; he wished it might be to — Halifax. Mrs. 
Blowman, sad and perplexed, when asked her opin- 
ion, was certain that Mr. Blowman had gone to Chi- 
cago on important business, and would return, with- 
out fail, in a week at latest. Several times, it had 
been necessary for him to make the same trip, and 
she didn’t see why his absence should occasion any 
talk. She k7tew that it had nothing to do with the 
disappearance of Mr. Smith or Mr. Williams or Miss 
Dolly or anybody else. Mr. Blowman ’s whole atten- 
tion was absorbed in his own business, and his whole 
heart was centered in his home. Mr. Brown was fain 
to believe her, and asked if Mr. Blowman had left 
any directions about paying for a suit of clothes that 
he bought on the day of his departure. Mrs. Blow- 
man, with some asperity, assured the tailor that Mr. 
Blowman was in the habit of paying his honest debts 
honestly; that if he (Mr. Brown) had sold him a suit 
of clothes, of which transaction she knew nothing, 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


61 


the payment for the same would be forthcoming in 
due time. 

So Mr. Brown, as there was nothing else to do, 
bottled up his impatience and returned to his shop to 
await, rather doubtfully, Mr. Blowman’s return. On 
the whole, the elopement theory was not popular 
with the ladies. The gentlemen, those who gave it a 
thought, concluded that Mr. Blowman had forsaken 
his family, and absconded, which opinion became 
more general, and settled into certainty as time 
elapsed and no Blowman appeared; .and as for Mr. 
Smith they simply did not know where he was, and 
few cared. 

So matters stood when Mr. Williams, after an ab- 
sence of about a week, reached home again. He had 
not been in town twelve hours before Dr. Stolid put 
him in possession of all the facts and theories that 
were being discussed. Mr. Williams laughed un- 
easily at the story of the elopement, ancLsaid that he 
could not understand how any one dared presume to 
connect his daughter’s name with that of his late em 
ploye; that Miss Dolly was gone to visit her aunt for 
the sake of a change of air; and as for Smith, he had 
grown very remiss in his duties, and also given some 
ground for suspicion of his honesty, and consequently 
been discharged. He (Williams) knew nothing of him; 
very probably he was spending the remnant of his 
wages on a spree somewhere; of Blowman’s where- 
abouts Williams could tell nothing, but thought that 
he would turn up soon. Dr. Stolid departed leaving 
Mr. Williams in a very perturbed state of mind. He 
sat down to reflect about the matter. It was not un- 
likely that Mr. Blowman had absconded; his business 
seemed very small and he was heavily in debt. Mr. 
Williams took down his ledger. It showed a balance 
of $173.36 against Mr. Blowman. Mr. Williams 
thought that he could easily afford to lose that sum, 


62 


y4DyENTURES OF AN EP^ANGELIST 


if only Mr. Blowman had taken Smith with him to 
parts unknown. At the same time he called his book- 
keeper, and told him to make out that bill at once 
and bring it to him. But perhaps Mr. Blowman was 
not accompanied in his flight by Mr. Smith. He 
could think of no possible reason that would induce 
Mr. Smith to go to Chicago in such company. Sup- 
pose the latter had discovered what he had done with 
his daughter and followed them. Even now the 
scoundrel might be making love to his cherished child. 
His sister was an indiscreet woman and would prob- 
ably encourage the match. Mr. Williams started 
to his feet and walked nervously up and down his 
office. Presently the book-keeper brought in the or- 
dered bill. He put it in his pocket, and started in 
the direction of Mr. Blowman’s house. 

Mrs. Blowman did not know whether to be alarmed 
or pleased by a visit from the magnate, and seated 
herself respectfully opposite to him. 

“Mr. Blowman is out of town, I believe, madam.?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“He has been gone some time.?” 

“About a week, sir.” 

“I suppose you know when he will return.?” 

“Not exactly, sir. He merely said that his busi- 
ness would take him to Chicago for a few days, and 
that if any one wanted him in his absence, to say 
that he would be back in a short time.” 

“Do you know whether he went alone.?” 

“Yes, sir. I’m sure he did. I believe it has been 
said that he went with Mr. Smith, who used to work 
for you, sir, but Mr. Brown says that he saw Mr. 
Smith in a south-bound train the very night that Mr. 
Blowman went to Chicago. So they were not to- 
gether.” 

“Can you give me Mr. Blowman’s address in Chi- 
cago .?” 


ADFENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


63 


“No, sir, I really can’t. I never have occasion to 
write to him when he is away, and I don’t know 
where he stays.” 

“Well, I thank you, madam. I merely wanted to 
speak to Mr. Blowman about a little bill I have 
against him. It has been running several months and 
I shall be forced to refuse him any more credit until 
it is paid.” 

Mrs. B. looked anxious and her eyes began to grow 
red. “I hope, sir, you will not stop our credit until 
Mr. Blowman returns. He has not left me any 
money, and I am sure he will pay the bill just as soon 
as he gets back.” 

“It has been running too long as it is,” said Mr. 
Williams sharply, rising to his feet. “I never allow 
over thirty days’ credit, and this bill is five months 
old. When it is paid, I may allow you to make an- 
other — not before. Here it is, madam, one hundred 
and seventy-three dollars and thirty-six cents. I want 
the money immediately and must have it. Good 
morning, madam.” And Mr. Williams stalked ma- 
jestically out, leaving the sad-faced woman holding the 
bill before her face; but her eyes were too full of tears 
to permit her seeing it. Mr. Williams went straight to 
the telegraph office and sent this dispatch to his 
daughter: 

“Come home by the first train. 

“P. Williams.” 

The window of the chamber which Miss Dolly oc- 
cupied in her aunt’s house in Buffalo commanded a 
fine prospect of Lake Erie. In this window sat Miss 
Dolly gazing out at the sparkling water. Her round, 
childish face had grown, in the few days that had 
elapsed since she left her home, more mature than 
one would have thought possible in twice as many 
years. Her eyes were red and swollen, her hair dis- 


64 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


arranged, her dress negligently put on, and frequent 
sighs of deep unrest followed one another from her 
heart. Thus her aunt found her when she entered 
hastily. “Now don’t be frightened, child. Here’s a 
telegram for you,” she said, and put the message into 
her hand. 

Miss Dolly hastily tore open the envelope and 
glanced at the contents. For a moment she gazed at 
it' like one dazed, while all the color left her face; then 
she laid her head on the window-sill and burst into 
a violent fit of tears. 

“Don’t cry, Dolly, don’t cry so, dear,” said her 
aunt, in a pitiful tone, her own voice shaking as she 
kneeled by Dolly’s side, and threw her arms around 
her. “Pray don’t break your heart; I don’t believe it is 
anything serious. Philip is not hurt or sick; he only 
finds it lonesome without you; and 1 know how soli- 
tary he must feel, for I shall be lost when you are 
gone. So don’t alarm and worry yourself without 
cause. You will wear yourself completely out, and 
you need all your strength for your tiresome journey. 
Do be calm.” 

But Dolly, taking no note of any effort to comfort 
her, sobbed as though her heart would break indeed. 

Finally just as her aunt was thinking seriously of 
sending for a physician, Dolly sobbed out: “Oh, I’m 
so glad. Auntie, I’m so glad that I can’t help crying. 
I’m so happy; I know he means to consent, or he 
never would have sent for me. He has found out 
something more about him, and he means to consent. 
I know he means to consent! I’ll tell you all about 
it, but I can’t now. Please go away. Auntie dear. 
I’ll be quiet soon.” 

So the aunt left her, and when she came back 
in half an hour to remind Miss Dolly that the first 
train left in a few hours, and there was scant time 
for preparation, she found her already engaged 


^D^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


65 


in packing her trunks, with a face wet still with 
tears, but as radiant as the sun. While they were 
engaged in packing. Miss Dolly confided to her aunt 
the story of her love, and its unhappy end. “But,” she 
added, “I knew papa would relent when he knew 
more of Mr. Smith. I felt sure that when he found 
how true, and noble, and generous, and pure, and 
high-minded he is, he would be glad to let me marry 
him. He said that I should never mention his name 
again; that if I spoke to him he would disown me 
forever; but he did not know him. He has found 
out something about him now, and he is going to 
consent. I feel sure of it, for he said I should stay 
here a long while; that it would be easier for me to 
forget here.” 

Her aunt listened sympathetically, but she knew 
her brother’s character too well to suppose that Miss 
Dolly’s theory could be correct, unless it had trans- 
pired that her lover was a millionaire who had been 
courting her in the disguise of a cartman, to be sure 
of her affection. 

She feared that some accident or sickness had be- 
fallen her brother and made Miss Dolly’s presence 
necessary to his comfort. She contented herself, 
however, with merely hinting to her niece that she 
might be mistaken, as there was possibly another 
reason behind the telegram than she had supposed — 
that wishes often govern judgments. But Miss Dolly 
promptly rejected the suggestion. She was right, 
she knew she was. Just at this juncture a servant 
entered with a card bearing in beautiful caligraphy 
the name, Horace T. Winters; she presented it to 
Miss Dolly, who dropped it indifferently and said: 
“Tell him I can’t see him; I am engaged.” 

“Who is it.?” queried her aunt. 

“That horrid Mr. Winters.” 

“You had better see him.” 


Adventures 5 


66 


ADWEhlTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


“No, Auntie, I can’t. I’m not dressed and my 
eyes are red, and I have scarcely time to finish pack- 
ing; and besides I don’t like his coming here so often. 
He has been here nearly every day since I arrived, 
and I don’t like him and don’t want to see him.” 

“But your father would not be pleased to know you 
treated the young man so rudely. He and old Mr. 
Winters are great friends. They used to be partners 
in business before he moved west.” 

“Please, Auntie, I can’t see him,” persisted Miss 
Dolly. “Go down, Jane, and tell him that I am 
very busy and he must excuse me.” 

“No,” said her aunt, “don’t send so brusque a mes- 
sage at any rate. I will go down and explain matters 
myself.” 

Mr. Winters was a young gentleman of some one or 
two and twenty, with a love of a little mustache just 
curling over his lip, a suit of most faultlessly fitting 
clothes, and a gold-headed cane of delicate proportions. 
He heard of Miss Dolly’s sudden departure with an 
easy expression of polite concern. Hoped that it 
denoted nothing serious at home. Would be glad to 
be of service in any imaginable way; made a correct 
adieu and departed. 

When Miss Dolly arrived at the depot, by mere 
accident it happened that he was at hand to assist 
her out of the carriage, to escort her to the waiting- 
room, check her trunks, buy her ticket, secure her 
a place in the sleeping-car, see her safely aboard the 
train, and wish her bon voyage — all in the most 
kindly, indifferent manner possible. The train was 
hardly started when Miss Dolly discovered that Mr. 
Winters had forgotten to give her her checks. She 
was in despair for a time, but nothing could long 
dampen her spirits, and she comforted herself with 
the reflection that her father, who knew all about 
these things, would have no trouble in finding the 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


67 


trunks, and resigned herself to the happy contempla- 
tion of the bliss toward which she was journeying. 
Nothing worthy of note occurred until she reached 
Chicago, where, as she was leaving the train to 
change cars, she was surprised to see, standing ready 
to hand her off the platform, Mr. Horace T. Win- 
ters. 

‘‘Why, Mr. Winters,” she said as she stepped down, 
“how did you get here.^ I did not know you were on 
the train. Did you know that you forgot to give me 
my checks in Buffalo.?” 

“Ah, yes, so I did! How stupid of me I Here they 
are, though. You will find them all right when you 
get home. Seeing that 1 had neglected to hand them 
to you I got the trunks transferred to the C. B. & Q. 
to save you the trouble. This is your train. No, 
you had better take the next car. The fact is, father 
wanted me to come west to attend to a little busi- 
ness. I did not say anything about it because you 
know one can’t smoke comfortably in the sleeping- 
car. Will you allow me to get your ticket.? To 
Aurora.? Thank you. I’ll bring it to you in an in- 
stant.” Mr. Winters disappeared and she did not 
see him again till just as the train was starting he ap- 
peared at the window, handed in her purse and ticket, 
said good-bye with a polite bow, and the train was 
off. 

Miss Dolly was sadly disappointed when she reached 
home that her father said not a word about Mr. 
Smith. He met her at the depot, seemed delighted 
to see her, asked after her health and her aunt, and 
her journey. Miss Dolly answered his inquiries satis- 
factorily, and told him of the care that Mr. Winters 
had taken for her comfort. 

“What Mr. Winters.?” said her father. “J. P. Win- 
ters, my old friend.? It can’t be, or he would have 
taken you more under his protection.” 


68 


yfDFENTURES OF AF! EVANGELIST 


“It was his son, I think,” said Miss Dolly. 

“What, Horace? Yes, Horace must be pretty well 
grown now. I have not seen him for some years. 
You asked him to come and spend some days with us 
before he returned east ?” Miss Dolly confessed that 
she had not, whereat Mr. Williams declared himself 
quite vexed, and said: 

“Mr. Winters is one of my dearest and most inti- 
mate friends, and I should have liked to show Horace 
the greatest attention. You two were promised to 
each other, Miss, while you were both babies, and 
nothing would please me more than to see the promise 
fulfilled. I am very sorry that you did not ask 
Horace to stay awhile with us.” 

Miss Dolly heard these words with great pain, and 
at last ventured timidly to ask her father why he had 
sent for her so unexpectedly. He answered: 

“Because I missed my little housekeeper so dread- 
fully. It is desperately lonesome here with you 
away. I could hardly muster courage to go home to 
dinner,” and Mr. Williams kissed her, bade her get 
rested and refreshed, and went off to his business. 

Not a word about the subject that lay closest to 
her heart. She began to feel that possibly she had 
been mistaken, and the thought brought tears to her 
eyes. But she would not give up hope yet. At any 
rate she was near Mm, and could see him at times, if 
it were only a passing glance, and she began to watch 
for opportunities. Ere long, however, this hope was 
dispelled. Mrs. Grundy called. 

“How glad I am to see you, child. You made a 
very short visit. You don’t look very well. It is 
very fortunate you are returned so soon. We will 
put a stop to the scandalous talk that is afloat. Of 
course you know that everybody says that you eloped 
with your father’s cartman. Smith. I didn’t be- 
lieve it; of course I know you have too much good 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


69 


sense to think of such a creature. The idea ! How 
could anybody presume so ! I suppose it was because 
he was so attentive to you in the choir and always 
escorted you back and forth to the meetings. Per- 
fectly natural, certainly. He was your servant, so to 
speak. But people will talk without the slightest 
foundation. You don’t know where Mr. Smith is.? 
To be sure not ! It is curious that he should disappear 
just at the very time that you started off for your trip 
east. And what Mr. Blowman has to do with the 
matter is a mystery to me. Yes, they are both gone 
and nobody knows where. They went — I think it 
was the very night that you started east. But 
whether they went together or not, nobody knows. 
Really, the mystery is quite delightful. Mr. Blow- 
man has left his family in absolute want. Poor little 
Mrs. Blowman came .to me to-day to beg for work, 
sewing or something But 1 had none to give her. 
She said that Mr. Blowman had not left her a cent of 
money, and that your father refused to give her any 
more credit, and that the other storekeepers would 
not trust her, and she did not know how she could 
get along until Mr. Blowman gets back. She is quite 
positive he will come in a very little while, but she is 
afraid some accident has happened to him. But he 
never will come back. He is tired of her and has 
left her and swindled his creditors and run away. 
It’s no use to hope that I am mistaken, I am not. 
I never am. But what share Mr. Smith has in the 
matter I cannot guess. Well, I must go. Good-bye, 
dear, I’m sorry you were not well while away. Come 
and see me soon, love. Good-bye.” 

Miss Dolly was too prudent to betray any great in- 
terest in Mrs. Grundy’s facts and opinions, but she 
felt a very deep one. So Mr. Smith was gone, and 
that was why her father sent for her, and nobody 
knew where he was. Both he and Mr. Blowman 


70 


ADVEf^TURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


were possibly together. May be Mrs. Blowman had 
heard something from her husband by this time. 
She did not believe that any man could be so utterly 
bad as to forsake entirely his wife and children. She 
would go to see Mrs. Blowman at once. She ran to 
see if there was time before dinner to execute this 
plan. But before she could get ready, in came her 
father and with him Mr. Horace T. Winters. He 
had had business in Aurora. He could not resist the 
temptation of Mr. Williams’ invitation to stay a few 
days. The prospect of seeing Miss Dolly was too 
strong for him. He hoped he would not be in her 
way. Miss Dolly’s visit had to be postponed, but it 
was made the next morning with Mr. Winters for a 
companion, and a bundle of sewing for an excuse. 
We know already how much information she gained. 


CHAPTER VI 


WHICH CONTAINS WHAT THE READER WILL PERUSE 

Monday evening arrived, and Mr. Difdence, who 
had been in a gloomy frame of mind all day — espe- 
cially so after the call made in the morning by Deacon 
Countmuny — declared (in answer to Mr. Blow’s sug- 
gestion that the hour of service had nearly arrived) 
that he could not go to church that night. So Mr. 
Blow set off in company with Mr. Smith and Mrs. 
Weekhart, who had called early in the afternoon to 
press upon Mr. Blow her invitation to Waxahatchie. 
To their great surprise, they found, on reaching the 
church, that it was unlighted and the doors closed. 
After waiting a short time for the sexton, Mr. Blow 
managed to open one of the windows, entered and 
unbolted the doors, and as both gentlemen were pro- 
vided with matches the lamps were soon burning, 
much to the satisfaction of Mrs. Weekhart, who, 
while denouncing the occasion for it, loudly pro- 
fessed her admiration of the zeal which stopped at 
no difficulties in the way of salvation. 

When the lamps were lit they sat down to wait for 
the congregation. A few people had already come 
in, and shortly a few more arrived, not more than 
twenty in all. They waited some time for more, 
when Mrs. Weekhart observed that she feared the 
congregation would be small. 

“Yes,” returned Mr. Blow with a deep sigh. “Yes, 
I fear the day of grace for Dallas is past. It is evi- 
dently stony ground. The seed flourished boldly at 
71 


72 


ADVENTURES OF AN^ EVANGELIST 


first, and gave brilliant promise : but how quickly it 
withered away!” and he shook his head sorrowfully. 
Mrs. Weekhart said: 

“I am sure that it will not be so in Waxahatchie.” 

“I hope not,” answered Mr. Blow, “I hope not for 
the good of their souls. Well,” he continued, “the 
Lord saveth not by many or by few. We will hold a 
prayer-meeting. Perhaps we may gain a blessing at 
the eleventh hour.” 

So he requested those present to take the front 
seats, which they did not do. Offered, a prayer, read 
a chapter of the Bible, selected at random, requested 
others to offer prayer, which none would do except 
Mrs. Weekhart and Mr. Smith, who both prayed fer- 
vently. Even the collection was not favorably re- 
ceived, none of those present being willing to pass 
the plates; consequently, Mr. Blow was forced to do so 
himself, and, in his righteous indignation, he dismissed 
the meeting with some strong words about the fate of 
those who despised the offer of divine mercy, and 
hardened their hearts against the means of grace, an- 
nouncing, also, that the meetings would be discon- 
tinued, as he was forced by urgent appeals to go to 
others who would hear and heed his words. 

As they escorted Mrs. Weekhart to her hotel, Mr. 
Blow told her that he had concluded to accept her 
invitation, and go with her to Waxahatchie by the 
first stage, which, as good luck would have it, left the 
next morning. She thanked him a thousand times, 
and gratefully promised to arrange all the prelimi- 
naries, and have the stage call for them, as the stage- 
office was at the hotel where she was staying. As 
they walked home Mr. Blow said to Mr. Smith: 

“I think, Smith, that we have done all that we can 
here. This is evidently a hardened and money-seek- 
ing community. Even Difdence, whom I did not 
suspect of such a fault, is evidently under the same 


ADyEhJTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


73 


baleful influence. He values a little money before 
many souls. I have no doubt that the church was 
shut against us to-night and unlighted according to 
his orders.” And then he repeated the conversation 
he had had with Mr. Difdence, the night before. 

Mr. Smith made no answer.. He did not doubt 
Mr. Blow’s consicentious motives, nor question the 
correctness, of his opinions, nor his purity of purpose. 
He thought it right that Mr. Blow should take the 
collections, even though it might be, as it seemed 
likely to be in the end, out of Mr. Difdence’ s pocket. 
But for Mr. Difdence he entertained a profound pity. 
As was easily to be seen from his surroundings and 
style of living, that worthy man did not revel in a 
superfluity of this world’s goods, and Mr. Smith even 
felt that he was scarcely to blame, if, on finding that 
the meetings were likely to cost him a goodly amount, 
he had taken measures to bring them to an end by 
closing the church against them. 

Of this act, however, Mr. Difdence was really guilt- 
less — indeed, ignorant. It was the work of the Dea- 
con, who had told the sexton that whatever oil might 
be consumed at these meetings he, the sexton, should 
pay for, and had moreover pocketed the key of the 
church, declaring that Mr. Difdence had no right to 
allow any one to use it without his consent. And he 
had spent the day visiting members of the congrega- 
tion, and talking on the streets, endeavoring to dis- 
suade all from attending the meetings. He had de- 
termined to put a stop to them, and being a man of 
great influence in town, carried his point, as we have 
seen. When our friends arrived at Mr. Dildence’s 
house the family had retired, so they made their way 
to their room as best they could. 

Mr. Blow now produced a package of money and 
an account-book. He counted the money, being all 
that they had collected in Dallas, and entered it up 


74 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


in the book. Then turning to Mr. Smith he said, 
“Now that we have concluded the first venture of 
this enterprise, I think we had better divide the 
earnings.” 

“Just as you think best.” 

“Very well. Here (pointing to the book) is the 
gross amount, $154.20, and not a bad sum either for 
a beginning. Now I think that it is but fair that our 
expenses be charged against that, and the net balance 
declared a dividend. You have no objection to 
that V' 

“Certainly nQt, if you think it right.” 

“Certainly; I have kept a careful account. Here 
it is on this page, $103. 10; (writing) Creditor by cash 
expense, 103. 10. That leaves a balance of $51. 10 to 
be divided; (writing again) Creditor by cash dividend 
to J. S. Smith. $25.55. Creditor by cash dividend to 
Abel Blow, A. B., $25.55; 154-20 — 154.20. There! 
that is all straight. Here’s your money. Twenty- 
five dollars and over for little over a week’s work, 
and not very hard work at that, is not bad pay.” 

“We have not been here a week.” 

“That’s so! Well, that’s better yet; and after this 
we shall do still better, for it will all be net gain 
nearly. Our expenses from now on won’t amount to 
much. Don’t you see I was right when I told you 
this sort of thing would pay .?” 

“Judging, though, from Mr. Difdence and the other 
ministers I have met, preaching don’t pay very well 
in general.” 

“Oh! That’s very different — that’s very different! 
Your regular ministers, as a rule, are not well paid. 
Here and there in the large cities you find one who 
gets a good salary — as much perhaps as a good book- 
keeper, or a first-rate salesman. But the vast ma- 
jority in little places hardly get enough to keep body 
and soul together, and they have to beg almost for 


ADVEmURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


75 


that, and be trampled on and browbeaten all the time, 
by one or more members of their congregation. Here’s 
Difdence, for example, I warrant that he gets only 
about five hundred a year — six at the outside — and 
see how he is run over by this Deacon Countmuny ! 
There’s Dr. Stolid, in Aurora; He gets seven hun- 
dred, and Williams (Mr. Smith winced at the name) 
lords it over him like a king. The ministry is not a 
money-making profession; that is certain. But then 
the case is different. They have to stay in the same 
place, and keep the thing going whether the people 
give or not. Enthusiasm or no enthusiasm, money 
or no money, it’s all the same. We go in, stir things 
up, and as long as the excitement lasts we reap; 
while people give, we take; when they get tired of it, 
we go. We get the money, and the glory, and do 
good, too. But, after all, the ministers do the work 
that tells in the long run. They are as necessary in 
their sphere, I suppose, as we are in ours. Ah ! Smith, 
this is a glorious work. I don’t know when I have 
been so happy as I was at our first meeting here, 
when I saw the first fruits of my labors, and felt that 
precious souls were saved.” Mr. Smith assented 
with a sigh. The last few days had raised Mr. Blow 
wonderfully in his estimation. The earnestness and 
beauty of his sermons, the piety of his conversation, 
his apparent zeal to do good, coupled with his own 
recently stirred religious feelings, all combined to 
make honest J. S. Smith view his companion with a 
feeling akin to reverence. 

Morning came, and with it the stage, Mrs. Week- 
hart being inside, and also a quiet, middle-aged gentle- 
man who wore a vest buttoning up close to his throat, 
and displayed no shirt or collar except a smooth, 
narrow linen band around his neck. 

Messrs. Blow and Smith made their adieus to Mr. 
Difdence and his family, climbed into the stage and 


76 


ADVEhITURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


started, but not till Mr. Smith had called Mr. Dif- 
dence aside and handed him twenty dollars. Mr. 
Difdence with the money in his hand refused to keep 
it. He felt grieved that his hospitality was thus mis- 
understood. Mr. Smith assured him that it was not 
intended as a payment for anything. That he feared 
there might be some little expenses of lights or some- 
thing that they had overlooked and which would be 
heavy upon Mr. Difdence, with a large family to sup- 
port. Mr. Difdence thanked him for his consideration, 
but repeated that he could’not keep the money. He 
kept it nevertheless, for Mr. Smith turned away and 
got hastily into the stage, and they drove off. 

It was a beautiful day, clear and bright, and the 
midsummer heat was tempered by a strong, cool 
breeze from the south-east. The road lay mostly 
across an open prairie, which after they had passed 
a little distance from the city was unbroken by fence 
or plow and stretched its undulations of virgin pastur- 
age far away to the horizon. It was absolutely un- 
tenanted except by herds of cattle here and there, 
which gave a delightfully pastoral character to the 
landscape. Mr. Blow and his companion had never 
seen anything of the sort, and were delighted with it, 
breaking out every now and then into rhapsodies of 
admiration, wondering why so delightful a land should 
remain so deserted. The conversation for a long 
while remained with them, and Mrs. Weekhart, who 
displayed, upon every possible occasion, a desire to 
give it a religious turn not at all relished by Mr. 
Blow. The closely buttoned-up stranger made never- 
an observation, but endeavored, as well as the oc- 
casional lurching of the stage permitted, to read a 
book which he produced from his pocket. Mr. Blow 
eyed him furtively from time to time, and at last de- 
termined to draw him into a conversation. 

“Traveling, sir.?” he remarked. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


77 


“Yes, sir,” said the stranger in a pleasant voice, 
just glancing up from his book. 

“Are you going far.?” 

“Not very.” 

“Do you live in this part of the country.?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“In Dallas, perhaps.?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Are you a native of Texas.?” 

“No, sir.” 

“You have traveled this road before, I presume.” 

“Several times,” still trying to read. 

“On business, I suppose.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Can you tell me the name of this tree that grows 
in clumps over the prairie .?” 

“Mesquite.” 

“It looks quite like a peach tree at some little 
distance.” 

No answer. Mr. Blow paused a moment and 
renewed the attack. 

“Merchant, sir.?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Traveling salesman, perhaps.?” 

“No, sir.” 

“You may be a physician and have patients this 
way .?” 

“No, sir.” 

Another pause, then Mr. Blow remarked: 

“An interesting book you have, sir.” The stranger 
looked annoyed. 

“Yes, sir. A Bible.” 

“Ah, perhaps you are a minister; if so I would be 
glad of your acquaintance, as I follow the same pro- 
fession. I am the evangelist who has just concluded 
a series of meetings in Dallas.” 

“Indeed, sir.” 


78 


ADyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“What church do you belong to?” 

“I am a priest of the Episcopal Church, sir, at your 
service.” 

“You Episcopals are rather exclusive, are you not?” 

The stranger put the book into his pocket and an- 
swered resignedly: 

“I think not, sir.” 

“Yes, sir” (magisterially) . “ I have always been told 

so. And I have evidence which puts the matter be- 
yond doubt. The Episcopal minister in Dallas abso- 
lutely refused to take part in my revival meetings; 
and now that I remember, I believe you are the same 
man.” 

“I believe I am. But possibly I may have had an- 
other reason than exclusiveness; I do not remember 
assigning that.” 

After a pause, Mr. Blow resumed aggressively: “I 
consider your church very formal. You say your 
prayers out of a book; this is entirely unscriptural; 
and moreover, as a body you are lacking in vital piety. 
You don’t believe in conversion, and I have been 
credibly informed that not one in ten of your minis- 
ters has ever been truly converted. I hope you have 
experienced religion” (benevolently). 

“I trust so,” meekly answered the stranger. “By 
the way, will you please point out some of the extem- 
pore prayers in Scripture?” 

“I do not know that I remember any just now, but 
there are plenty.” 

“Yes, plenty of prayers. There’s Solomon’s prayer 
at the dedication of the Temple; but that is evi- 
dently precomposed. There are a great many prayers 
of David; but they are in meter, and plainly written 
beforehand. The Temple service is admitted by all to 
have been strictly liturgical. The Lord’s Prayer is a 
form which he commands us to use. The publican’s 
prayer is clearly the response of a litany. ‘The 


^D^ENTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


79 


prayers of the church,’ Acts ii: 42, must mean a 
form of worship — and — ah, yes, I had almost for- 
gotten — the Pharisee’s prayer. You remember it: 
‘Lord, I thank Thee that I am not as other men, ’ etc. 
I have no doubt that was entirely extempore.” 

Mr. Blow looked annoyed, and said, “I feel sure 
that there are many extempore prayers in the 
Bible.” 

“I would be grateful to have them pointed out. 
Here is a Bible.” Mr. Blow declined the offered 
book. 

“It is just as well,” said the stranger, putting the 
book into his pocket again. “I fear your search would 
be useless. What do you understand by the Kingdom 
of Heaven, spoken of so often by our Lord Jesus.?” 

“Why, heaven, of course.” 

“Not at all ‘of course.’ In the Parable of the 
Tares the Lord says expressly, ‘the field is the 
world. ’ Is heaven then in the world .?” 

“I suppose sometimes the Kingdom of Heaven 
means the church.” 

“Exactly. I think so too, but why ‘sometimes.?’ 
Does the expression mean one thing in one place and 
another in another.? That would be a curious use of 
language. But what is the church .?” 

“All those who have been truly converted” (very 
abruptly). 

“Yes. Then Cornelius and his friends were mem- 
bers of the church before they were baptized.? They 
were converted, and received the Holy Ghost, too, 
and how do you understand this text .? ‘The Lord added 
to the church daily such as were saved.?’ and here is 
another, ‘God hath set some in the church, first 
Apostles, secondly Prophets, ’ etc. Were these officers 
in an organized visible body or not.?” 

“I suppose they were.” 

“I think so; and since such a body existed then and 


80 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


the Savior promised that it should continue for- 
ever, it must be an organized, visible body still. Do 
you belong to it VI 

“I belong to no denomination, sir.” 

“Indeed? Then who ordained you to preach the 
Gospel ?” 

“Nobody, sir. I was called of God to labor for 
the salvation of sinners.” 

“Did God, with this supernatural call, give you 
any supernatural method of proving it? Do you 
work miracles, or speak many tongues?” 

“Of course not. You are trifling.” 

“Not at all, I assure you. But it is written that 
‘Even Christ glorified not himself to be made an high 
priest. * And hence I cannot think that he is pleased 
to have any one take upon himself to minister his 
word and sacraments without a lawful call and mis- 
sion.” 

“I do not minister sacraments. I do not believe in 
sacraments.” 

“How superfluous then of our Savior to establish 
them! Do you preach that men can be saved with- 
out them, when our Lord said: ‘He that believeth 
and is baptized shall be saved?’” 

“I do not care to continue this conversation, sir,” 
said Mr. Blow haughtily. 

“I did not care to begin it,” answered the stranger 
quietly, “but since you were good enough to force it 
on me I would thank you to answer my question. 
I suppose you claim to preach the Bible. Do you 
preach salvation without the sacraments?” 

“They are mere forms, sir, and entirely unessen- 
tial.” 

“The Scripture does not say so. It says, ‘We 
are all baptized into one body;’ ‘Every one that has 
been baptized into Christ has put on Christ; ’ ‘Baptism 
doth also now save us; ’ ‘Repent and be baptized. ’ ‘We 


^Dl^ENTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


81 


are one bread and one body, for we are all partakers 
of that one bread;’ ‘He that eateth and drinketh un- 
worthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself; ’ 
‘Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink 
his blood, ye have no life in you.’ How can you say 
that the sacraments are unessential in the face of these 
words from the Scripture.!^ Are you baptized, sir.?” 

“I don’t choose to be catechised, sir.” 

“I answered your questions politely, sir. Have you 
ever been baptized.?” 

“Not that I am aware of.” 

“Indeed! you astonish me. Yet you claim to be- 
lieve in the Bible, to be a follower of Jesus Christ, 
and to be a preacher of his word. How can you 
reconcile these things.?” 

“I do not feel called to defend my conduct before 
you.” 

“You are bound to do it, sir, before every one, 
in consideration of the claim you set up to be a guide 
of souls.” No answer. The clergyman continued: 

“I see that you cannot reconcile your position with 
the word of God. My dear friend, I don’t wish to 
annoy you, but with God’s help to set you right. 
Take the advice of one who has given a life’s atten- 
tion to these matters. Give up your self-assumed 
mission, which only serves to deceive and destroy 
the souls for which Christ died. Seek out His Church, 
and obey her, and perhaps, in time, you may be law- 
fully sent to preach a true gospel and administer 
saving grace. ” 

“I do not need your advice, thank you,” Mr. 
Blow said with some asperity. 

“But I think you do,” calmly pursued the other. 
“On your own admission, the Lord Jesus established 
a church, a visible organization of men. To her 
he gave authority to minister his word and sacra- 
ments. Surely to undertake such ministry outside of 

Adventures 5 


83 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


her is wrong. And this you certainly have done, for 
you are a member of no denomination, and not even 
baptized. Am I not right.?” Mr. Blow did not an- 
swer, but called to the driver to stop the stage. This 
being done, he got out and took a seat on the box, 
where he remained out of reach of the pertinacious 
clergyman to the end of the journey. As he went 
out a faint smile played around the corners of the 
stranger’s mouth, but he said nothing to Mr. Smith or 
Mrs. Weekhart (who had witnessed in dismay their 
champion’s discomfiture,) but continued to read his 
book in silence. 

“That was a very impudent, bigoted fellow,” re- 
marked Mr. Blow, as he and his two companions 
were comfortably seated in the veranda of Mrs. 
Weekhart’s house, after having been refreshed with a 
home-made and bountiful supper; “I had to leave the 
stage for fear of losing my temper, and being rude to 
him. He advanced the most absurd and unevangel- 
ical theories. I did not want to argue with him for, 
in my opinion, nothing is so annoying, and fruitless 
too, as religious controversy.” 

Mrs. Weekhart was of the same opinion. She 
never could see any religion in the Episcopal Church. 
And so the subject was dropped, for the consideration 
of their further movements in Waxahatchie; and they 
determined to begin services the next night, and to 
invite the co-operation of all the ministers of the 
place. 


CHAPTER VII 


WHEREIN ARE RECOUNTED THE ADMIRABLE SUCCESSES 
OF MR. ABEL BLOW, A. B. , AND THE EXTRAOR- 
DINARY FORTUNE OF MR. J. S. SMITH 

WITH OTHER THINGS 

On the morning following the events related 
in the last chapter, Mr. Blow was called upon by the 
resident ministers of Waxahatchie, but two in num- 
ber, both of whom professed themselves delighted by 
his visit, and entered heartily into his plans, promis- 
ing to do all in their power to promote the success of 
the meetings. Notice of the services to be held that 
night was duly circulated and the largest meeting- 
house in the town secured. In the afternoon Mrs. 
Weekhart proposed to take our friends to drive and 
show them the surrounding country. Mr. Blow ex- 
cused himself. She could take Mr. Smith if she 
pleased, but as for himself it was impossible. He 
expected to preach that night, and it was necessary 
that he should employ the time in such devotional 
exercises as might fit him to speak to the dying souls 
of men. 

Mrs. Weekhart, with a look of reverential regard, 
assured him of her approval of his course, though tc. 
miss him on the drive would be a sad disappointment. 
Mr. Blow, with virtuous self-denial, replied that be 
felt the disappointment keenly, but duty, duty, it could 
not be for one instant neglected. So the carriage 
drove off without him. 


83 


84 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


As soon as it had disappeared, Mr. Blow donned his 
hat and walked out of town some distance across the 
prairie, and as he walked he reflected: “There is some- 
thing wrong about my preaching. The sermons are 
all right, I could get no better. They are fiery and 
sensational enough for anybody. And I thought my 
delivery was as good as could be desired. But the 
people don’t get excited — that’s the long and short of 
it. Even that young donkey who exhorted the other 
night, made more sensation than I. And Holiton, 
why, he swept everything before him, though he 
only repeated what I had already said a thousand 
times better. It is his rant that tells, and I must 
get it. That must be the reason why the meetings 
ran out so soon at Dallas. It’s miserable style. 
Any people of culture would be disgusted with it. 
But hang culture ! I want to get hold of these people 
here, and make them shell out their money — and re- 
pent of their sins. To do that I must use the Holi- 
ton dodge, that's clear. I think I had better practice 
a little first.” 

By this time, Mr. Blow had arrived at a hollow in 
the prairie some two miles from town, a place which 
seemed to him suitable for his purpose. So taking 
his stand beneath a solitary tree, he addressed some 
cattle, which he had driven from its shade, and said 
in a sing-song whine : “My text, brethren, you will 
find in the I2th verse of the seventh Psalm, Hf he will 
not turn he will whet his sword,” etc. He went on 
for some moments, and then stopped dissatisfied. 

“That won’t do. Not force enough. Too little 
swell and compass. He began again and went some- 
what farther into the sermon; again he stopped. 

“Not loud enough. I thought I could yell as loud as 
anybody. I can’t get that pathetic twist on it, some- 
how. Try again.” Again he began and with a force 
that seemed to please him. The cattle, which had 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


85 


stood wondering spectators of his -performance, 
turned tail and scampered off in alarm some distance, 
then looked back and with uplifted heads gazed on 
in amazement. Mr. Blow was doing his best. 

Suddenly in the midst of his effort he was interrupt- 
ed by a rude yell of laughter close behind him. 

“Go it. Parson! go for *em! Hal ha! Derned 
uncivil of the mourners to run off that way! Ha! 
ha! ha! ha! Go for ’em! That yaller steer is the 
cussedest beast on these prairies. Go for him in par- 
ticular! Oh! ho!! He’s a sinner! If you convert 
him I’ll give you ten dollars! Ha! ha! ha!” 

Mr. Blow turned in alarm, and saw a sight that 
made him quake. Close to the tree behind him were 
two young men, fiercely bewhiskered, clad in broad- 
brimmed hats, flannel shirts and leathern leggings, 
with red sashes around their waists, in which they 
wore long knives. Each of them was armed besides 
with a carbine and two huge revolvers. They were 
sitting on their horses, shouting and laughing till the 
tears rolled down their cheeks. Said one: 

“Bill, I reckon that’s the parson that come out with 
sister Hannah. Go on, parson! don’t let us interrupt 
you; you’ve hit the right lot this time. That’s the 
doggondest bunch of cattle in these parts — that 
yaller steer in particular. Ha! ha! ha!” 

“If you gentlemen will excuse me I think I will re- 
turn to town,” said Mr. Blow, mortified and alarmed. 

“No you don’t,” replied the other. “Not till you get 
that yaller steer on his knees hollerin’ for mercy. I 
wouldn’t miss his bein' converted for nothin’.” 

Said Mr. Blow, “I beg your pardon. I hope I 
have not been trespassing on your property. It’s 
time for me to return.” 

“Look here, parson,” said the young man, “no 
foolishness, jest go on with that sermon. Me and 
Bill kind o’ like it, and it’ll do my cattle a heap of 


86 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


good. You shoot off your jaw, or I’ll do some shootin’,’' 
and he drew a revolver. Mr. Blow, terrified, turned 
toward the cattle and recommenced his sermon. 

“Louder, parson, louder! They can’t hear that.” 
Mr. Blow spoke louder. “Put in the agony, parson, 
you’re too easy on ’em. That won’t fetch em. Pile 
it on!” 

Mr. Blow exerted himself to obey. 

“That’s it. The yaller steer looks weak about the 
eyes already. He’ll be crying soon. Git him down 
on his hunkers!” 

The young men sat on their horses shouting with 
laughter, and every now and then responding a dismal 
Amen! That’s so! O Lord! while Mr. Blow, the 
perspiration rolling profusely from his whole body, 
declaimed with all his might, in horrid dread that his 
enemies, having finished their sport, would shoot 
him down as a fitting conclusion. After nearly half 
an hour spent thus, Mr. Blow’s persecutor said: 

“Hallo, Bill! there’s sister Hannah now. Come 
on, let’s go. Good-bye, parson, we’ll be to the 
meetin’ to-night, you bet!” 

Mr. Blow turned round in fear and trembling. 
The young men were just disappearing over the swell 
of the hill, riding at a mad gallop. Mrs. Weekhart 
and Mr. Smith were driving toward him in a carriage. 
He staggered. The landscape swam around before 
his eyes and he fell fainting to the ground. When 
Mr. Blow came to himself he found himself stretched 
on the turf, Mrs. Weekhart kneeling beside him in 
the utmost distress, and, utterly regardless of her own 
elegant costume, profusely bathing his head and naked 
chest with some excessively filthy water, which Mr. 
Smith was bringing for that purpose, in his (Mr. 
Blow’s) hat, from a foul pool in the hollow hard by. 
Mr. Blow gazed for a moment into her handsome 
and compassionate face and burst weakly into tears. 


^DyENTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


87 


“O Mr. Blow,” cried Mrs. Weekhart, in an ago«r 
nized voice, ^^Dear, good Mr. Blow, don’t cry! Hurry, 
Mr. Smith, hurry with the water! He is going to 
faint again. O ! that wicked, wicked boy ! He will 
kill me with grief yet. I did hope that he might get 
good from the meetings — and see how he has acted! 
What did he do.^ Mr. Blow, what did he do.^ I 
hope he has not hurt you.” 

Mr. Blow did not answer, but wept sadly, motion- 
ing away the water, which nevertheless Mrs. Week- 
hart, in the goodness of her heart, poured bountifully 
over his head and body, filling his eyes, ears and 
mouth and saturating his clothing with the horrible 
compound. 

Mr. Blow stopped crying, sat up, and feeling for 
his handkerchief wiped his face and beard. Then 
groaning deeply, he said: “Oh! the wickedness of 
men! Oh! What a narrow escape from death!” 
and again manifested symptoms of fainting. 

Mrs. Weekhart in distress threw her arms around 
his neck, and called for more water. Mr. Blow was 
better instantly, and asked to be helped into the car- 
riage, and that was, accordingly, done. As they 
drove toward home, Mrs. Weekhart again pressed 
him to let her know what her brother had done. Mr. 
Blow answered nothing, but leaned back in the corner 
of the carriage, his eyes streaming with tears and 
gazing into vacancy. It was evident that he had 
suffered a dreadful nervous shock and was completely 
unmanned. They conveyed him to Mrs. Weekhart’s 
home as rapidly as possible; and after taking a glass 
of wine, at Mr. Smith’s suggestion, he went to bed, 
where he lay, assiduously attended by Mrs. Week- 
hart, in profound silence, now and then uttering a 
deep sigh, and in tears constantly. Mr. Smith was 
furious^, and swore in round oaths — which shocked 
Mrs. Weekhart dreadfully —that if he could catch 


88 


y^DFENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


those villains, he would teach them a pretty hard 
lesson. It was plain that Mr. Blow was in no con- 
dition to preach that night; so, after a conference 
with Mrs. Weekhart, Mr. Smith went out toward 
evening to inform the ministers that Mr. Blow had 
been taken suddenly ill, but would probably be able 
to preach on the following night. While he was gone 
Mr. Blow heard voices in the adjoining room engaged 
in earnest but subdued conversation. He listened 
attentively. Mrs. Weekhart was talking with some 
man, but he could not distinguish the words. At last 
the man spoke out in angry tones: “I won’t do it! 
If he would make a fool of himself, nobody’s to 
blame for laughing at him. You can give him fifty 
dollars to keep his mouth shut, and if he don’t I’ll 
shut it for him. I’d just as lief shoot him as a rabbit.” 

Presently Mrs. Weekhart came in, pale and uneasy, 
and found Mr. Blow still paler. Said she: 

“I hope, dear Mr. Blow, that you will forgive my 
brother, for my sake. He is very wild, but he didn’t 
mean any harm. He is very sorry for having troubled 
you, since he has learned how seriously you were 
annoyed, and he desires to make what amends he can. 
And, if you please, don’t say anything about what 
took place. He is so wild that I fear the consequences. 
Can you forgive him.?” 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Blow resignedly; “it is our 
duty to forgive and pray for our enemies. I ac- 
cept his apology (holding out his hand) since it takes 
a form that proves his sincerity, and I will promise, 
for your sake, not to mention the circumstance.” Mrs. 
Weekhart put the money into his hand and said: 

“Please tell me what occurred.” 

“I had gone to that quiet place,” answered he, 
wiping his eyes, “to pray in private, and while en- 
gaged in that holy exercise, those wicked persons 
discovered me, and used me with all manner of abuse. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


89 


I had resigned myself to death rather than blaspheme 
when your opportune arrival delivered me.” And 
Mr. Blow wept afresh. 

“Pray don’t be so troubled, my dear, my dearest 
friend,” she cried, seizing his hand in both hers. 
“Try to forget it, and be comforted. God will reward 
your noble, heroic conduct.” 

That evening a great many people called to ex- 
press their regret at Mr. Blow’s ill health, and their 
disappointment that he was unable to preach. No- 
body was admitted to see him. At Mr. Blow’s en- 
treaty, Mr. Smith bottled up his indignation, in great 
admiration for the truly Christian spirit of forgiveness 
that his friend manifested. 

On the next evening, Mr. Blow had almost entirely 
recovered his strength and spirits, and was able to 
accompany Mrs. Weekhart and Mr. Smith to the 
meeting-house, where they found a crowded congre- 
gation in waiting. It was a large, low, unfinished 
room, capable of seating some 500 or 600 persons, and 
was crammed to its fullest capacity. The people 
were already engaged in singing, “Am I a soldier of 
the cross.?” As Mr. Blow and Mr. Smith seated them- 
selves in the high pulpit the former looked nervously 
around to see whether his enemies were present. 
Having examined the congregation carefully and not 
seen them, he felt reassured, and proceeded with the 
opening exercises. The people were evidently pre- 
disposed to be enthusiastic. The prayers were met 
by hearty, though irregular responses, proceeding 
mainly from a devout knot of elderly people grouped 
in the corner to the right of the pulpit; the hymns 
were taken up and heartily rendered by the whole 
congregation, and even the reading of the Bible elicited 
audible signs of feeling. Then Mr. Blow stood up 
to preach. 

He was perfectly self-possessed, though somewhat 


90 


ADyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


nervous. He had expected to make “Turn or Burn,’’ 
his initial effort; but feeling now that this was impos- 
sible, he fell back on the “Visit to Calvary.” He 
began in his ordinary style, but soon collecting him- 
self, he managed to overcome the sense of disgust 
and dread associated with the Holiton delivery by 
the events of yesterday, and soon was “piling on the 
agony,” as his persecutor had delicately expressed it, 
in a manner that cast Dr. Holiton entirely into the 
shade. 

The effect was astonishing. Before he could con- 
clude, the congregation was in such an uproar that it 
was simply impossible for him to be heard. He 
roared at the top of his voice, and at last was forced 
to sit down. Some were crying, some praying, some 
sighing and groaning bitterly, one or two singing. 
The people were in all sorts of postures — standing, 
sitting, kneeling, lying on the floor, mounted on the 
benches, almost every one in a state of most intense 
excitement. Mr. Smith then rose and sang the hymn 
“Where are the nine.?” which had the effect of some- 
what unifying and calming the excitement, and bring- 
ing a multitude of mourners to their knees around the 
pulpit. One of the brethren made a lengthy prayer, 
and as this restored a tolerable degree of quiet, Mr. 
Blow arose and resumed his sermon. By the time 
he had finished the excitement was as intense as be- 
fore. Judging the moment opportune he then ordered 
the collection to be taken up, which was done, sev- 
eral brethren passing around their hats, and gathering 
no mean sum. After another prayer the mourners 
were desired to stay, and the congregation dismissed; 
but nobody manifested any inclination to go. The 
ministers proceeded to exhort and pray, Mr. Smith 
sang several hymns, and some twenty-five or thirty 
mourners professed to have experienced religion. 
Still the excitement was unabated, and as Mr. Blow 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


91 


was wondering anxiously how to conclude the meeting 
one of the ministers called out in a loud tone: “Speak 
to them again, Brother Blow! One more word in 
season. These starving souls are longing for the 
bread of life.” This proposition met with general 
favor, expressed by pious ejaculations from all sides. 
“O yes!” “More gospel!” “Speak to our souls!” 
So Mr. Blow arose and, omitting the text, began to 
deliver “Turn or Burn” with all the force and “agony” 
that he could command. The enthusiasm of his 
hearers was gradually reaching an uncontrollable 
pitch, when Mr. Blow was interrupted suddenly by a 
stentorian voice just outside the window near him: 
“Go in, parson. That’s business. I’ve fetched the 
yaller steer up to hear you, and he’s on his hunkers 
now!” A wild yell of laughter, as from a dozen 
throats, was followed by the mad galloping of horses. 
Mr. Blow stopped speaking; his face turned to the 
window, and assumed an ashen hue; his jaw fell; 
his knees knocked together; he reeled, and fell heavily 
to the floor. 

The sensation was immense; some sprang to the 
window with naked revolvers; some rushed’ outside; 
some crowded toward the fallen evangelist. The 
steer was indeed just outside the window tied hard 
and fast with ropes in a kneeling posture, but not a 
soul was discernible near him. 

“Stand back!” cried Mr. Smith inside, trying to raise 
Mr. Blow, “stand back! and give him air ! bring some 
water!” But stand back, was easier said than done: 
the excited throng crowded forward, those behind 
pushing those before, till Mr. Smith was pushed down 
on top of his friend, and others over them, and for a 
time a very bedlam ensued, shouting, screaming, 
cursing, struggling. The living mass surged back- 
ward and forward and when order was at last restored, 
several persons were found badly bruised, and Mr. 


92 


AbyEl^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


Blow was taken out and carried to Mrs. Weekhart’s 
house, to all appearance lifeless. A physician was 
soon called, who pronounced him alive, to Mrs. Week- 
hart’s inexpressible relief, and proceeded to apply 
restoratives. 

When the physician left, which was toward morn- 
ing, he gave positive orders that Mr. Blow should 
remain in bed for a week, and be kept absolutely 
quiet — he must see no one; and the condition in 
which Mr. Blow found himself when he awoke late 
the next day from the sleep produced by the opiates 
which it had been necessary to administer, fully 
justified these directions. His whole body was so 
mauled ,and bruised that he could not move a limb 
without pain; and his nerves were so unstrung that 
he wept, moaned, complained and fretted “like a 
sick girl,” Mrs. Weekhart, who was unremitting in 
her attentions, nursing and humoring him with un- 
sleeping devotion. The whole town sympathized in 
his affliction, and a stream of visitors flowed to the 
house, bringing all manner of delicacies, and inquiring 
anxiously after the evangelist’s condition. Intense 
popular indignation was also manifested against the 
perpetrators of the mischief, and probably they would 
have suffered for their fun, had it been possible to 
find them. But having learned of the excitement 
that they had caused, they wisely kept themselves 
out of the way. Mr. Smith was in a furious rage, 
and divided his time between waiting by Mr. Blow’s 
bedside, and endeavoring to learn who and where 
were the offending parties, vowing dire vengeance if 
they should ever fall into his hands. 

After a few days, when Mr. Blow had sufficiently 
recovered to allow of his sitting up and receiving 
visitors, several prominent gentlemen of Waxahatchie 
called in a body. They were deeply pained that their 
revered friend had suffered such ill-usage at the hands 


ADVEhlTURES OF Ah! El^ANGELIST 


93 


of their fellow townsmen; they desired him to under- 
stand that the reprehensible conduct of these wicked 
cow-boys was held in general condemnation and ab- 
horrence by all right-minded citizens, and should cer- 
tainly be punished. They begged to assure him of 
the appreciation and regard in which the community 
held him and his self-denying efforts for the good of 
souls — in testimony of which feelings they hoped he 
would deign to accept a small purse of $250.00. 
And they were very anxious that his health should be 
soon restored sufficiently to permit him to continue 
his most edifying meetings. 

Mr. Blow accepted the money with thanks and 
tears, and was grateful for the warm sympathy 
expressed by the community; but as to continuing 
the meetings, it was impossible. He had already 
been delayed a longer time than he could well spare. 
He must proceed immediately to fulfill an engagement 
which he had made at Cleburne, and he prayed the 
Lord to have mercy upon Waxahatchie, and render 
to its citizens a reward for their treatment of him. 

After the gentlemen were gone, Mrs. Weekhart 
labored with Mr. Blow to change his mind, but he 
proved inexorable. The possibility of enduring an- 
other such experience as had already befallen him 
was not to be risked. Having exhausted all her 
resources of persuasion and argument, Mrs. Week- 
hart declared her determination to accompany them 
to Cleburne. She would drive them over in her own 
carriage. She could not bring herself to lose yet the 
holy influences of Mr. Blow’s sermons and society. 
In two days more Mr. Blow had pretty well recovered 
his strength and spirits, and it was determined to set 
out, the next morning, for Cleburne. So, that night 
when the two were alone, Mr. Blow said: 

“Well, Smith, venture number two is finished, 
though not altogether according to my hopes. We 


94 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


had better now balance the books, don’t you think? 

“Perhaps so,” said Smith indifferently. 

“Well, here is the money,” producing the collec- 
tion, which somebody had brought to the house the 
night of the meeting, and proceeding to count it 
carefully. “Forty-three dollars and a half” (writing 
in his book). “Debtor by cash collected, $43.50. That 
is the gross earnings, and the net too, for there is no 
expense to charge against it.” 

“But,” said Mr. Smith, “there’s the money that 
those gentlemen brought in the other night. How 
much is that?” 

“Oh! That is strictly a private matter, and has 
nothing to do with our enterprise. It was under- 
stood in the beginning that the collections alone 
were to be divided. If anyone makes you a present, 
it is nothing to me. I don’t claim any share in that’^'‘ 
and Mr. Blow gazed at his companion with an ex- 
pression of frank and disinterested surprise in his pale 
blue eyes. 

After a pause, during which Mr. Smith looked 
disconcertedly at the book, he answered doubtfully. 
“Well! if you think it fair, all right.” 

“Of course! of course!” returned Mr. Blow ener- 
getically, and turning to his book wrote: “Creditor 
by cash dividend to J. S. Smith, $21.75. Creditor by 
cash dividend to Abel Blow, A. B., $21.75; $43-50 — 
$43.50 — there!” Mr. Smith received his dividend 
silently, counted it slowly over, and put it into his 
pocket without a word. 

“I hope,” said Mr. Blow cheerfully, “that we shall 
do better at Cleburne.” 

“I hope so!” answered Mr. Smith moodily. “Good 
night.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


IN WHICH THE EXTRAORDINARY FORTUNE OF MR. J. S. 

SMITH IS STILL FURTHER DEVELOPED 

After an early breakfast, our evangelist, with Mr. 
Smith and Mrs. Weekhart, set out in that lady’s 
carriage on the Cleburne road. The day was delight- 
ful, the road was in good condition, the horses fresh, 
everything conspired to make the ride a pleasure. 
Mr. Blow was in high spirits. He chatted and laughed, 
and commented upon every passing object. Mrs. 
Weekhart was cheerful and happy. She smiled at 
his jokes, answered his questions, and found a 
spiritual application in his most trivial remarks. 

Mr. Smith alone was silent and moody. He answered 
every remark addressed to himself in monosyllables, 
as far as possible, and gazed vacantly at the long 
reaches of open prairie, or the clustering clumps of 
straggling mesquites (which objects principally con- 
stituted the landscape) and occasionally heaved a 
sigh. In fact, Mr. Smith was in a desponding mood. 
He was away from his love, and the distance between 
them was hourly growing greater and more insuper- 
able, apparently. The bitter pain of absence had 
been partially forgotten for a time in the fervor of his 
newly-found religious emotions. But these had been 
somewhat cooled by the occurrences of the past few 
days, and the longing and weariness of his heart 
returned with renewed force. Again, the only thing 
that had reconciled him to this wide separation, the 
hope of rapidly acquiring a fortune that would justify 
95 


96 ylDJ^ENTURES OF AN EJ^ANGELIST 

his love in the eyes of Mr. Williams, was beginning 
to appear less likely to materialize than he had sup- 
posed. The undertaking was now some three weeks 
old and more, and his net share of the profits amounted 
to only some twenty-five dollars. He thought he 
remembered a sort of tacit agreement that Mr. Blow 
was to save the souls while ke took the money. But 
somehow the souls and the money seemed to go to- 
gether. Not that he could accuse Mr. Blow of 
unfairness, or question the integrity of his purposes. 
Yet in spite of himself, he felt a sense of injustice as 
he thought of the large sum of money that was handed 
to Mr. Blow before his eyes, and of which he him- 
self got no share. He felt disappointed. True, things 
might be better in the future, as Mr. Blow had said. 
But they might also be worse. At any rate Mr. 
Smith was very much downhearted, and said scarcely 
a word all day long. His conversation, however, 
seemed little missed. Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart, 
on the back seat together, succeeded in entertaining 
one another amazingly well. They chatted, and 
laughed, and sighed, and each hoped that the other 
was comfortable, and not wearied by the journey. 
And the ride ended with the day, leaving them com- 
fortably bestowed in the hospitable residence of Mr. 
Worthy, one of the prominent religious pillars of 
Cleburne. Here they were very warmly received. 

Mr. Worthy was reverentially happy that his house 
was honored by so eminent a person as Mr. Blow. 
Mrs. Weekhart’s coming was an unexpected feature 
of delight. It always afforded him intense pleasure 
to meet his dear devoted sister in the Lord, and his 
wife would enjoy her society even more than himself. 

Mr. Smith he was glad to see, and hoped their 
acquaintance would be soon even pleasanter. And 
so they were all made to feel at home, though Mr. 
Smith felt growing upon him a sensation, that he had 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 97 

before uneasily experienced, that he was a sort of 
fifth wheel to the coach. Mr. Blow also seemed to 
entertain something of the same estimate of him and 
to display it in an air of lofty indifference when Mr. 
Smith ventured a remark, and of gracious condescen- 
sion whenever he (Blow) addressed him. Altogether 
Mr. Smith was not happy. 

All the necessary arrangements for the prosecution 
of our evangelist’s mission were easily perfected on 
the following morning. There were but two resident 
ministers in the place though five, or six. denomina- 
tions, by means of itinerant preachers, maintained 
monthly services. The Methodist minister threw him- 
self into the projected work with all his might. The 
other, an Episcopalian, who combined the duties of 
his sacred office with the calling of store-keeper, 
Mr. Blow hesitated about inviting, but finally con- 
cluded to banish all personal feeling, and show his 
wide charity (to Mrs. Weekhart’s intense^ admiration) 
by extending him an invitation. The clergyman hesi- 
tated somewhat, but finally promised to attend. Serv- 
ices commenced that night. The attendance was 
much smaller than Mr. Blow had anticipated. The 
feeling manifested was very mild, and the collection 
did not exceed five dollars. All this in .spite of Mr. 
Blow’s most strenuous efforts. He preached “Turn 
or Burn” in the most vigorous style, and after the 
collection, and the “few remarks” of the Methodist 
minister, he returned to the charge with a fierce ex- 
hortation, given extempore, by which effort he sur- 
prised himself, and succeeded in inducing three persons 
to stand up in response to his closing request, that 
all who felt anxious about the condition of their souls 
would manifest their feeling by this action. No 
mourners came forward, and no inquirers staid when 
the congregation was dismissed. 

As they walked homeward, Mr. Worthy felt dis- 

Adventures 7 


08 /IDyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

appointed, and Mrs. Weekhart indignant, at the cal- 
lous hardness of heart that could hear so powerful 
a discourse unmoved. 

The minister, however, was hopeful. The notice 
of the meetings had not yet been fairly circulated in 
the country. The following meetings would have a 
larger attendance. They had made a very good 
beginning. Three anxious ones ! it was an immense 
gain, considering the awful lethargy of the com- 
munity, that had not witnessed a conversion in 
months. 

Mr. Blow was loudly confident. “Rome was not 
built in a day.” he said, “and how much greater is 
the importance of one soul. I feel sure that I have 
been appointed a chosen instrument to bring a bless- 
ing here. So far the goodness of God has pleased 
to crown my toilsome labors with glad success, and 
has given blessings far beyond my expectations.” 
The next night the congregation, according to the 
minister’s prediction, was greatly increased. Many 
people had come in from the country, in wagons and 
on horseback. The meeting-house was tolerably 
well filled, and in consequence, the feeling was higher. 
Mr. Blow gave the congregation “A Visit to Calvary,” 
with decided effect, but no very boisterous excitement. 
However the song that followed, “Come to Jesus,” 
by Mr Smith, brought two of the congregation to 
the mourners’ bench. The minister gave as powerful 
an exhortation as lay in his power, and Mr. Blow 
offered an exciting prayer composed mainly of de- 
scriptions of hell and its agony. Then, as Mr. Smith 
was preparing to sing, Mrs. Weekhart stepped up to 
the pulpit and said: 

“Let me sing them one of the songs of Zion. I 
am so anxious to do something to help on the good 
work.” 

The request could not be refused, so Mr. Smith 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


99 


handed her the book, and she quickly selected the 
touching song, “Almost Persuaded.” Mounting the 
platform she turned to the people and began to sing. 
The effect was good. She had a rich and clear voice of 
considerable power, although uncultivated. And she 
sang with such abandon of passion, her eyes full of 
tears and directed to heaven, her bosom heaving with 
emotion, and her handsome face full of longing pity, 
that no one could resist the appeal. A dozen persons, 
mostly young men, arose and came forward. 

Mr. Blow was filled with intense delight, and his 
heart, hitherto wholly indifferent to the pretty widow, 
felt a sudden accession of emotion. He had liked 
her as a very useful person for the execution of his 
plans, he now felt that he admired her. 

When she had finished he immediately arose and 
requested that his dear sister would sing one more 
hymn while the collection was being taken. She did 
so, and the collection was more than double that of 
the preceding evening. 

Mr. Blow, inspired, proceeded to make a few more 
inflammatory remarks when one of the young men on 
the mourners’ bench suddenly sprang to his feet and 
clapped his hands behind him with an agonized ex- 
pr,ession of face crying, “Oh! God!” A boy who sat 
behind him burst into a violent laugh, which was 
quickly smothered under a fit of coughing, as he 
glanced apprehensively into the stern face of an old 
gentleman who sat next him. Mr. Blow paused and 
looked at the young man, who, darting a revengeful 
glance at the boy, shamefacedly took his seat. It 
was plainly the work of a naughtily placed pin, but 
the opportunity was not to be lost. Springing from 
the platform, Mr. Blow seized the surprised and 
blushing young man by the hand and shouted: 

“What is it, brother What is it? Have you 
found the Lord?” 


100 


/fDJ^ENTURES OF /IN EVANGELIST 


“I don’t know,” hesitatingly answered the abashed 
victim, ‘‘but I think — (feeling furtively behind him) 
I believe that — ” 

“Yes,” interrupted Mr. Blow, at the top of his 
voice, “yes! a dart from his quiver has touched you, 
his keen sword has smitten your heart I Don’t be 
ashamed to acknowledge your Lord! Stand up! 
(dragging him to his feet) Stand up ! and let your 
fellow-sinners know what the Lord has done for your 
soul. See! Brethren, see this brand snatched from 
the burning. O! what joy is now in the presence of 
the angels of God. Where is the next one to awake 
the rejoicings of heaven!” Mr. Blow still clung to 
his pri^e, and compelled him to kneel down there, 
while the congregation offered thanks for his conver- 
sion, after which he was allowed to take his seat. 

“Don’t you feel better, John.?” inquired the boy 
behind, in a sympathizing whisper. 

“Never you mind!” hissed John in answer, through 
his set teeth. No more conversions occurred, and 
after some further exercises Mr. Blow dismissed 
the congregation, first appointing, at the ministers’ 
suggestion, a prayer-meeting to be held at ten o’clock 
the next morning. 

The meetings continued, the attendance daily in- 
creased, the enthusiasm grew. It became necessary 
to have preaching twice and finally three times a 
day. The place of meeting soon had to be changed 
from the meeting-house, which was entirely too small 
to accommodate the swelling multitude, to a large 
arbor, constructed of branches, which was erected in 
the edge of the village. People hearing of the great 
meeting flocked to it from a distance of thirty and 
even forty miles. Many of the people of Waxahatchie 
came over to attend, and it was generally conceded 
that such an interest had not been roused for years. 
So matters went on for some two weeks, in which 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


101 


time about eighty persons professed to have expe- 
rienced religion. 

But Mr. Blow was not satisfied. For some reason 
the collections did not keep pace with the other feat- 
ures; they rather fell off. Once only it amounted to 
twenty dollars, generally it reached but two or three 
in a day, though Mr. Blow took special pains that at 
every service the congregation should not lack oppor- 
tunity to display their liberality. A great many peo- 
ple, in fact, grumbled at the persistence with which 
the hat was passed around, and it became almost 
impossible to persuade or force any one to perform 
that function. 

The Methodist minister more than once hinted that 
it be dispensed with as calculated to drive away the 
people. But Mr. Blow discarded the suggestion on 
the ground that he considered giving a powerful 
means of grace. Very few, however, seemed desirous 
of cultivating their grace by this means, and Mr. Blow 
began to think it time for him to seek fresh souls to 
save. He suggested this, one night, to Mrs. Week- 
hart, as they were going home after the services arm 
in arm. She energetically protested. He was doing 
so much good. He could not find a more promising 
harvest. 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Blow, sighing deeply, “the 
harvest is plenteous, but my labor is now performed. 
I am to sow where others reap. The interest is 
aroused, souls are awake. To the ministry belongs 
the task of gathering them in. I must deny myself 
the delight of enjoying the fruit of my labors, and 
go on to sow on the rocks and amongst the thorns. 
I can stay but a day or two longer.” 

Mrs. Weekhart was deeply pained by this an- 
nouncement. After walking some distance in silence 
she remarked: 

“Yours must be a desolate life, so full of privations 


m y^D^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

and self-denials, away from your family, making 
friends only to leave them, not even letting yourself 
see the good you do! I pity you.” 

Mr. Blow sighed deeply. “My family! Yes, I once 
knew the delights of home, a fond wife and clinging 
little ones, but they are no longer mine. My Master 
said not to love wife or daughter more than Him, and 
I obey.” 

“^Have you a family then.?” 

“I had. Yes, I had. But I gave them to God, 
and now I am homeless and alone. My only comfort 
is this holy work.” 

Mrs. Weekhart shed tears of compassion and sym- 
pathy. 

Mr. Blow was much moved, and declared that the 
sympathy and appreciation of one congenial soul like 
hers more than repaid him for all his sufferings and 
privations. On the following day Mr. Blow made 
public his determination to depart. A general pro- 
test followed. Everyone who could get to him ex- 
postulated with him, urged every conceivable reason 
against his departure, and begged, prayed, entreated 
him to continue the meetings but one week longer at 
least. But Mr. Blow, turning over and over in his 
hand the paltry one dollar and fifteen cents which had 
just been collected, remained firm. He had been 
with them already more time than he ought. His 
conscience reproached him for neglecting the pitiable 
condition of the dying souls to whom yet he had not 
spoken. However delightful it would be to himself 
to remain and share the spiritual feast that they were 
enjoying, he dared not indulge himself. His proper 
work was done, and stern duty called him away. 
Even tears could not change his determination — not 
the tears of Mrs. Weekhart, which were abundantly 
sheS. So the day went on almost gloomily, though 
the religious interest seemed rather to increase than 


ADl^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


103 


diminish. Toward evening, a stranger rode up to 
Mr. Worthy’s gate on a stout gray nag, and without 
dismounting cried, “Hallo, within !” He was an elderly 
man, with long dark hair, an immense, unkempt gray 
beard, and shaggy, overhanging eyebrows, of medium 
height, and square, heavy-set frame, and was clad in 
a suit of blue jeans, not at all new and far from 
clean. Mr. Worthy went out to respond to the sum- 
mons, and presently returned bringing in the stranger, 
whom he introduced as an old and dear friend of his, 
Mr. Jacob Samuels. 

Mr. Samuels was a man of very few words. He 
merely nodded a salutation to Mrs. Weekhart, 
bowed coldly to Mr. Blow, looked Mr. Smith sharply 
over a moment, shook hands with Mrs. Worthy, mut- 
tering “Glad to see you,” kissed the little Worthys, 
and asked for a chair in the veranda, where he and 
Mr. Worthy conversed till tea-time. At the tea-table 
Mr. Samuels manifested a healthy appetite, but 
steadily resisted every attempt to draw him into con- 
versation; and after tea declined to go to the meeting, 
though he finally yielded this point to Mr. Worthy’s 
somewhat persistent solicitation. 

The meeting was rather larger and more enthusi- 
astic than usual; Mr. Blow seemed to preach with 
even more force than ordinary; Mr. Smith and Mrs. 
Weekhart sang the songs in duet with fine effect, and 
all went on well until the collection was taken, when a 
serious difficulty ensued. As the hat was passing round 
a big, rough-looking fellow, sitting near the middle of 
the arbor, who wore an ugly scar on his cheek and 
two revolvers in his belt, when the hat was presented 
to him, took it, emptied the contents into his hand, 
and gave it back to the collector with a quiet “Thank 
you.” 

The collector, with a feeble, uneasy smile, still held 
the hat before him and said mildly: 


104 


ADyENTURES OF AN EFANGELIST 


“Don’t take that! It belongs to the Lord.” 

The fellow looked fiercely at him and retorted: 

“See here! Do you know me?” 

The collector smiled still more faintly and an- 
swered: “Yes, sir.” 

“Well, then, you know you’d better go on! I’ll 
see that the Lord gits this here money.” 

The collector turned pale and continued his rounds. 
The congregation stared at the stranger with an ex- 
pression of consternation, but nobody said a word or 
made a movement, while the fellow sat jingling the 
money complacently in his hand, and staring around 
at the disturbed and alarmed faces of the company, 
a defiant leer on his disfigured countenance. 

Intense silence fell over the assembly. Mr. Blow, 
standing on the rostrum, glanced appealingly from 
the intruder first to the minister, then to Mr. Worthy, 
then around the congregation, but in every eye he 
read nothing but timid submission to the domineering 
bully, who presently called out in the easy manner of 
a master of the situation: 

“Goon, parson! Say your little say, I ain’t goin’ to 
interfere with you, if you attend to your own busi- 
ness.” 

Here Mr. Smith sprang to his feet indignantly and 
said: 

“I’d like to know if this crowd is going to suffer an 
outrage like this!” 

Whereupon the stranger rose to his feet, and 
retorted with an oath. 

“I’d like to know who’s goin’ to help it! Perhaps 
you’d like to try, young feller. I’m Bill Shootem, I 
am! Just come and see me.” 

“Yes, I’ll help it, if nobody else will,” cried Mr. 
Smith, springing from the rostrum and advancing 
towards him. “You can’t scare me worth a cent!” 

In a trice, the ruffian had a cocked revolver in each 


ADVEJ^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


105 


hand. The crowd parted with a rush to either side 
of the arbor, men running, children screaming, women 
fainting, all scrambling to get out of the way. 

“Put up your pistols, coward, I am unarmed,” said 
Mr. Smith, still advancing. 

“You’d better be praying than calling names,” 
coolly returned the other, slowly raising his right arm. 

Mr. Worthy’s friend, Mr. Samuels, who had sat 
just behind the desperado, hitherto an unmoved spec- 
tator of the scene, suddenly rose, snatched the ruf- 
fian’s pistol from his left hand and struck up his right 
arm just as the pistol went off, exclaiming: 

“You shan’t shoot an unarmed man; give him a 
fair fight if you dare.” 

“I’ll settle you in a minute, old man,” hissed the 
scoundrel, “when I’m done with this young chap,” 
and he again pointed the revolver at Mr. Smith. 
But the latter was now close upon him, and seizing 
the weapon by the muzzle twisted it out of his hand, 
receiving the ball in his arm; he threw the smoking 
revolver across the arbor, and struck the ruffian a 
violent blow with his clinched fist. In an instant they 
had closed, and presently were rolling together on the 
ground in deadly combat. 

By this time, the arbor was deserted except by 
three or four of the boldest men in the vanished 
crowd, one of whom proposed to separate the com- 
batants. 

“No!” said Mr. Samuels, who was standing with 
the bully’s cocked revolver in his hand. “It’s a fair 
fight! I’ll shoot the man that interferes. Bill 
Shootem’s never met his match before.” 

So the conflict went on, the desperado shrieking 
curses, and straining every' nerve to do his enemy a 
mortal hurt. Mr. Smith kept silent, but struggled 
with equal energy to cripple his adversary. After a 
while it began to be manifested that Mr. Smith, 


106 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


though the smaller of the two, had the advantage of 
the other in endurance and activity, and presently 
he succeeded in fastening a vice-like grasp upon his 
opponent’s throat. The ruffian struggled to get free, 
but all his efforts were in vain, and presently his face 
grew black, his tongue protruded and his hand fell 
powerless to his side. 

Mr. Smith loosed his grasp a little, and quietly 
demanded: “Are you ready to give up that money 
now.!*” Xhe other signified an assent, and produced 
the cash. Mr. Smith took and pocketed it and then 
released his man, remarking: 

“You’d better be careful after this whose meetings 
you interfere with.” 

The desperado answered nothing, but painfully 
rising from the ground, Vv^iped his bleeding face, and 
turning to Mr. Samuels said sullenly: 

“Give me that six-shooter.” 

“Not if I know it,” returned Mr. Samuels. “You’re 
not fit to handle dangerous weapons, you might hurt 
yourself. You’d better find your horse and make your- 
self scarce in these parts.” 

The unhappy desperado unwillingly obeyed, and 
Mr. Samuels, picking up the other revolver, escorted 
Mr. Smith home, and insisted on himself seeing to 
and bandaging his wound, which, however, proved to 
be slight. 


CHAPTER IX 


WHICH EXPLAINS SOMETHING HITHERTO RATHER 
OBSCURE 

It was not yet late when Mr. Smith and Mr. Sam- 
uels reached Mr. Worthy’s house and found that 
gentleman, his family and guests, anxiously awaiting 
them and very much relieved by their arrival. Mr. 
Samuels, in a few brief, graphic words, described 
^ what had taken place, and Mr. Smith was at once 
a hero. Mrs. Weekhart especially lavished upon 
him in a short time more attentions than she had 
hitherto shown him in all the weeks of their acquaint- 
ance. Mr. Worthy praised his pluck and nerve, 
and assured him that by vanquishing the ruffian he 
had conferred an inestimable boon upon the whole 
community, which had long been terrorized by that 
very scoundrel, and had lost some of its best citizens 
by his murderous hands. Mrs. Worthy anxiously 
bustled about to find healing restoratives for his 
wound, which she insisted upon bandaging afresh; 
and brought out brandy and the choicest food she 
could prepare, affirming that he must be in need of 
refreshment. The children gazed with wondering 
admiration at the man who had “whipped Bill 
Shootem.” And altogether Mr. Smith was exalted 
exceedingly, to Mr. Blow’s indefinable and inexpli- 
cable, but very positive displeasure. 

At last, Mr. Worthy and Mr. Samuels having taken 
seats in the veranda outside, where Mr. Samuels was 
endeavoring to learn from his friend something of Mr. 

107 


108 


AbyEhirURES OF /IN EVANGELIST 


Smith’s antecedents, Mr. Blow suggested that per- 
haps it would be best for Mr. Smith to retire and 
take a needed rest. This proposition was unani- 
mously agreed in. So the two said good night and 
retired to their room. When they were alone, Mr. 
Blow said: 

“I am very sorry, Smith, that you allowed your 
carnal temper to betray you into this difficulty, and 
God was very merciful in sparing your life through it. 
It seems to me that force is the idol worshiped in 
this part of the country, and we had a priceless 
opportunity of testifying against it by an exhibition 
of Christian meekness and forbearance, an opportunity 
which you by your weak anger spoiled. Do you think 
I would not have attacked that poor wretch had I 
thought best.? But I preferred to endure his abuse 
in the hope of saving his soul.” 

“Humph!” returned Mr. Smith, sharply. “I don’t 
intend to let any bragging scoundrel impose on me, 
Christianity or no Christianity. And I don’t care 
to be lectured about it either. It’s all very well to 
talk goody about it now that the trouble’s over. I 
noticed that you did not interfere at the time, and 
5^ou took pains to get safely out of the way. I for one 
never ran off and left a friend in a tight place.” 

“Well, well,” said Mr. Blow, patronizingly, “I 
don’t mean to annoy you.. I don’t suppose a man of 
your impulsive nature is to be blamed if he some- 
times fails to govern his temper. I hope you suc- 
ceeded in making him disgorge the collection .?” 

Mr. Smith silently took the money out of his 
pocket and desposited it on the table. 

“Here is the balance of the proceeds of this last 
venture,” said Mr. Blow, taking from his valise a 
package of money, and his account book. “And as 
we go to-morrow, we had better square the account.” 
He proceeded to count the money and make various 


/iDyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


109 


entries in his book; after a while he turned to Mr. 
Smith, and, counting out twenty-five dollars, handed 
the amount to him, saying: 

“There is your share.” 

Mr. Smith counted the money slowly over and said, 
“How is that } Were there only fifty dollars collected ? 
Let me see it, please.” 

Mr. Blow had pocketed the money. 

“Yes,” he said, “there was more collected. But 
the expenses had to come out.” 

“What expenses 

“Why, our board in the first place. We can’t 
expect Worthy to feed us here for twenty days gratis. 
It’s worth at least seventy-five cents a day, apiece, 
and I shall pay him that, which makes thirty dollars, 
and I intend to offer to pay Mrs. Weekhart at least 
twenty dollars for the use of her carriage. Here is 
the statement, if you want to see it ; but I hope you 
don’t think I would cheat you. (Reading) Debtor, 
by cash collected at forty-four meetings: One hun- 
dred and twenty-five dollars. Creditor, by board to 
Worthy, thirty dollars; by carriage hire, twenty dol- 
lars. By cash dividend to Abel Blow, A. B., fifty 
dollars. By cash dividend to Jacob S. Smith, twenty- 
five dollars.” 

“I think it but fair,” he went on, “that our divi- 
dends should be in the ratio of two to one. My part 
of the work is vastly more fatiguing and more im- 
portant than yours. And, besides, my necessities 
are very much greater as I have a large family de- 
pendent upon me, while you have but yourself to 
care for. I had intended this scale of division from 
the beginning, but hitherto the amounts to be divided 
have been so small that I did not wish to appear 
ungenerous, and gave you half, when I could not 
really afford it.” 

Mr. Blow spoke rapidly with his eyes on the floor. 


110 ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

and when he finished looked up at Mr. Smith s face 
with an expression of great benevolence. 

Mr. Smith sat staring at him intently, and thought- 
fully twisting the ends of his huge mustache, under 
which his invisible lip was curling with contempt. 
He continued so for some moments, and then said, 
in a tone of suppressed anger and undisguised disdain: 

“I believe I have got your measure at last, and I 
don’t know how it is I’ve been so long finding it. 
Take your money — take it all; you certainly need it, 
when you go so low for it. I don’t want anything 
to do with that money. I just want to tell you once 
what kind of a man you are: You are a liar, a swin- 
dler, a thief, a hypocrite, and a dog, and I am a fool 
for letting you impose on me so long. I would thrash 
you soundly if you were not too dirty to touch.” 
And Mr. Smith strode out of the room. 

Mr. Blow gathered up the money and locked it up 
in his valise, muttering: “I am sorry he is so violent 
and angry. I did not think he was of so avaricious a 
disposition. Well, I forgive him, and am not dis- 
pleased to be rid of him; he is no help to my work, 
anyhow,” and Mr. Blow said his prayers and retired. 

Mr. Smith walked out of the house, and began to 
take hasty and irregular turns up and down the yard 
in front of the door. He was angry, very angry, 
indeed; angry with Mr. Blow, angry with himself, 
angry with the whole world, and so absorbed in his 
tumultuous emotions that he did not notice Mr. 
Samuels, who sat in a dark corner of the veranda, 
smoking his pipe, and contemplating from beneath 
his shaggy eyebrows the manifest disquiet of the young 
man striding around like a chained bear. After a 
time the cool night-air had the effect of somewhat 
calming Mr. Smith’s excitement and he gradually 
paced the yard with a more quiet and regular step, 
when he was suddenly startled by a remark from the 
darkness of the veranda just at his elbow; 


ADI/ENTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


111 


“You seem oneasy, young feller.’’ 

Mr. Smith stopped, and having made out who the 
speaker was, answered: 

“Yes, I am a little.” 

“Well,” continued the first speaker, “Fm glad you 
came out, any way, for I wanted to talk with you a 
bit before I went. Sit down here.” Mr. Smith 
reluctantly obeyed. 

“Let me see,” went on Mr. Samuels, “your name 
is Smith.-* No.? Jacob Samuel Smith, Worthy says.” 

“Yes, sir. That is my name.” 

“Your father perhaps was named Smith.? Patrick 
Henry Smith.? and you was born in Gauley County, 
Va. , about twenty-seven years ago .? and your mother’s 
name was Julia Maria Hotchkiss.?” 

“You seem to know my history pretty well!” an- 
swered Mr. Smith in astonishment. 

“And you was named after your father’s brother, 
that had to leave the country while you was a little 
shaver for parts unknown .?” 

“Where did you find out all that!” exclaimed Mr. 
Smith. 

“Don’t talk too loud,” cautioned Mr. Samuels. “I 
lost sight of you and yours for a long time, but I 
knowed you the minute I set eyes on you, and I own 
I was disgusted to find you in such business. It don’t 
look well for a man that looks so much like your 
father, to be singing hymn-tunes and whining cant 
around the country. Quack doctors is bad enough, 
but quack preachers is worse. Don’t say anything 
(Mr. Smith was about to reply. ) I want to talk. I don ’ t 
talk much, so let me have my say. I wouldn’t have said 
a word to you, being in such business, but just let 
you go on, if it hadn’t been for the fuss to-night, and 
I seen. you was a chip off the old block. I’m your 
uncle Jake — now just keep still — and I’ve been in 
this country ever since I left Virginny. You needn’t 


112 


^D^EhlTURES OF EyANGELIST 


be afraid of me for a murderer. It was your father 
that killed Bill Harrison, and he done it fair to save 
his own life. I was the only one that seen it. But 
nobody would have believed me, and if Patrick had 
been suspicioned it would have been a long term in 
the penitentiary, if he got off from hanging. So I 
says to Patrick, ‘You’ve got a wife and a baby and 
are comfortably settled, and I am single, with noth- 
ing to hold me. So I’ll put out somewhere, and 
they’ll lay the blame to me. ’ He wouldn’t hear to 
it, but I was bound to do it; and made him promise 
to keep his mouth shut. So I got on my horse, and 
struck off through the mountains. I had a hard time 
of it for a while, but now I’m all right. I’ve got a 
considerable ranch down here in Gonzales County 
and I ain’t got no family, and sometimes I feel lone- 
some. I’ve been trying to get track of you for several 
years; but I never could hear from you. How did 
you get mixed up with that preaching feller.? He is a 
bad lot.” 

Mr. Smith proceeded to give an account of his 
relations with Mr. Blow, omitting however all men- 
tion of Miss Dolly. 

“Ain’t there a woman in this business.?” queried Mr. 
Samuels. “I reckon you must be in love, or nobody 
could make such a fool of a Smith.” 

Mr. Smith confessed that his uncle was right. 

“Tell us about her,” said the old man. Mr. Smith 
rather reluctantly and bashfully did so. 

“Well,” answered his uncle, “I reckon we can fix 
that up. I like you, Jake; you’re a spunky boy, and 
seem to have pretty good sense. If you want to 
come and live with me, say so. I’ve got a plenty for 
us both.” 

Mr. Smith answered: “I am very much obliged 
to you. Uncle Jake, and don’t want to appear un- 
grateful, but I never have been under obligations 


ADyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


113 


to anybody, and I never intend to be. If you can 
give me any work that will pay me, I’ll be glad to 
get it. I want to make what I can, but I won’t 
take anything that I don’t earn.” 

“ Humph !” ejaculated the other. “Foolish enough ! 
but just Patrick Henry over again. I suppose you 
wouldn’t be willing to take my property if I died and 
willed it to you ? Well ! I ain’t going to do that right 
away. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ve got to 
have another major-domo on the ranche, for the man 
I’ve got is going to quit when I get home. You 
can have his place at seventy-five dollars a month 
and found. I reckon you’ve got head enough to 
attend to it. What do you say.?” 

“I say, ‘thank you’, and I’ll accept your offer.” 

“All right! now let’s go to bed. We must be in 
the saddle by six o’clock. I want to make a long 
ride to-morrow.” 

Mr. Blow was surprised, when he made his ap- 
pearance rather late the next morning at the break- 
fast-table, to be informed that Mr. Samuels had dis- 
covered in Mr. Smith a sister’s son, and had taken 
him with him to his home; that they had already 
been more than an hour on the road. 

Mr. Blow professed himself deeply pained at the 
ungrateful conduct of his associate in leaving so 
unceremoniously without a word to himself, and at his 
unfaithfulness in deserting the holy work to which he 
was pledged, for the prospect of worldly gain. How- 
ever, he was not surprised, he said, and had often 
remarked in his companion manifest signs of a lack 
of true consecration, and a plain hankering after the 
flesh-pots. But what troubled Mr. Blow most in his 
table-talk, which was unintermitting, was the unpro- 
vided state in which he was left to continue his spirit- 
ual campaign. He was no singer himself and disliked 
to trust to what volunteer help he might find in that 

Ac* ventures 8 


114 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


direction. Music was a powerful auxiliary to his 
work, and the character of it was all-important. He 
must have a companion that could sing for Jesus, and 
sing from the heart. The spirit was of greater con- 
sequence than the voice. After talking on the subject 
for a long while, he turned abruptly to Mrs. Week- 
hart and said: 

“Sister Weekhart, you have both the voice and the 
spirit. Do you not regard these circumstances as 
a special call for you to consecrate your talents to 
the Lord’s service.?” 

All eyes were instantly turned upon her. She 
blushed deeply, and stammered out a wish that she 
were worthy to share so noble a work with so good 
a man. 

“It is not a question of worth, ’’said Mr. Blow em- 
phatically, “but a question of duty. You are worthy 
to work with a much abler instrument than I. But 
I think that Providence clearly indicates here the 
path of life that He means you to follow, my dear 
sister. He puts a choice before you. Will you battle 
at my side against the overflowings of this world’s 
fiery sins, or will you not.? It is a matter that you 
must decide before God.” 

Mrs. Weekhart blushed still deeper, and covered 
her face in confusion. 

“So public,” she murmured. “Never thought of 
such a thing for a moment. I must think it over 
first. You are so good!” And with a melting glance 
at the evangelist out of her handkerchief, Mrs. Week- 
hart rose from the table and disappeared into the 
next room, whence she was heard a moment after in 
a flood of tears. Mr. Blow pushed back his chair, 
and arose with an annoyed look, remarking, “Mrs. 
Weekhart seems to regard my proposition with extra- 
ordinary emotion. It may be that I have required 
too great a sacrifice of her. It is hard to give up all 
at the call of God and duty.” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


115 


“But,” urged Mrs. Worthy, “you must consider how 
very publicly you addressed her Such a thing is a 
shock under any circumstances.” 

“Yes,” sighed Mr. Blow, “I remember the fierce 
struggle I had with myself.” 

Mr. Worthy and his wife exchanged glances of 
doubtful inquiry, but evidently neither understood 
the relevancy of this remark. Presently that gentle- 
man remarked: 

“I do not doubt, from what I have observed, that 
Mrs. Weekhart will accept your offer when she be- 
comes calmer; and you are to be congratulated. She 
is a noble, good woman, and eminently fitted to be 
your associate.” 

“Yes,” assented Mr. Blow, “I esteem her so, and 
I have no doubt that, with her help, I shall accom- 
plish even more good than would have been possible 
with Mr. Smith.” 

Again Mr. Worthy glanced a query at his wife, and 
found it hopelessly returned. But Mr. Blow gave room 
for no further remarks on the subject, but began to 
discuss his prospects for future work. He had already 
determined to proceed to Waco, but found that the 
stage did not leave till the next day, and to Mr. 
Worthy’s no little mystification, he expressed great 
vexation at this fact. He was anxious to start that 
very morning. 

“You could hardly expect,” remarked Mr. Worthy, 
“that a lady could make her preparations in so short 
a time.” 

“Very true,” returned Mr. Blow, “very true! That 
must be taken into consideration.” 

After a time, as Mr. Blow and Mr. Worthy were 
seated on the veranda, Mrs. Worthy came out and 
informed the evangelist that Mrs. Weekhart was 
ready to speak to him. He arose and went in, 
while Mr. Worthy strolled away from the house, and 


116 


ADyENTURES Of Ah! EVANGELIST 


his wife turned busily to train a rosebush close to the 
parlor window. 

As Mr. Blow entered the parlor, Mrs. Weekhart 
arose blushingly, and timidly extended her hand. Mr. 
Blow coolly took the proffered hand in his and seating 
himself beside her, said: 

“I hope you have thought and prayed over this 
matter, and decided to go with me.” 

Mrs. Weekhart glanced at him. His weak blue 
eyes, were gazing into her face with a wistful expres- 
sion. Her gaze fell as she whispered a faint “Yes.” 

“I am very glad to hear it,” he said quietly, press- 
ing her hand gently and releasing it. “Very glad 
indeed. It relieves me from a very distressing pre- 
dicament. I hope you can make your preparations 
to start to-morrow morning. I know that a lady does 
not move with as much facility as a gentleman, but I 
know you have too much good sense to carry any- 
thing except what is indispensable. The stage leaves 
in the morning at six o’clock; or perhaps you prefer 
to take your own carriage.?” 

“Of course we can go in my carriage. It will be 
much better than a public conveyance, but — ” 

“It is very kind of you,” interrupted he. “My ex- 
penses are necessarily large, and your goodness will 
allow of great saving.” 

“O! that is nothing! my 1 — I mean, Mr. Blow,* 
my property is all at your service. But would it not 
be better.? — I don’t wish to suggest — I have perfect 
confidence in you — but where will.? — ” 

Mr. Blow interrupted again; 

“At Waco,” he said, “I have already sent word 
before, and everything will be ready by the time we 
arrive. So, you see, I am very anxious to get on as 
soon as possible. You are sure that you can be ready 
to start to-morrow.?” 

“Yes, I will try, but it is very short notice; how- 


^D^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 117 

ever perhaps you are right in saying that the sim- 
plest preparation will be best.” 

“I think so, decidedly.” And Mr. Blow arose and 
left the room. 

Mrs. Weekhart looked after him, wondering 
whether to laugh or cry. 

“It’s so strange,” she said to Mrs. Worthy when 
that lady came in. “I have often imagined what my 
second betrothal would be like, but I never fancied 
such a thing as this. I know he loves me deeply, 
but he is as cool and reserved as can be. He didn’t 
kiss me, nor call me one pet name, hardly touched my 
hand. I hope he won’t be so always. O Mrs. 
Worthy, I long to be loved — to have some one who 
will never tire of kissing and petting me.” 

“You deserve to be loved, dear,” answered the 
elderly woman, “and you are so sweet that I am sure 
Mr. Blow will love you to your heart’s content. But 
when and where are you to be married.?” 

“At Waco, as soon as we get there. Mr. Blow 
says that he has already sent on word, and made all 
the arrangements. Very presumptuous of him to do 
so before I had consented, wasn’t it.?” 

Mrs. Worthy smilingly supposed that Mr. Blow had 
read her answer in her eyes, as everybody else had, 
which made Mrs. Weekhart blush again. But that 
matron entered her strong protest against such sum- 
mary proceedings. Mrs. Weekhart ought to have at 
least two weeks to provide a trousseau and invite her 
friends to the wedding, and be married at home where 
she was known. But Mrs. Weekhart thought it 
much better as it was, for if her brother should dis- 
cover her intentions he would certainly interfere. 

Mrs. Weekhart passed a busy, happy day prepar- 
ing for the morrow’s journey, and Mr. Blow a long, 
tedious one, fretting at the delay. He walked over 
to the arbor, and to the meeting-house, but could 


118 AbyENTURES OF AN EFANGELIST 

hardly realize that they had been the scenes of yester- 
day’s excitement. Everybody was gone. The min- 
ister had left town to meet an appointment at some 
other station. The business and gossip of the small 
place were going on as though no great revival had 
been held, and Mr. Blow was anxious to be off also. 


CHAPTER X 


WHICH RELATES A DISAPPOINTMENT AND AN EXPLA- 
NATION 

Early the next morning Mrs. Weekhart’s carriage 
was at the door. Mrs. Weekhart’s trunk and Mr. 
Blow’s valise were secured in place behind the car- 
riage. Breakfast was over, and all was ready for the 
starting, when Mr. Worthy, who had gone out some 
time before, returned and told Mrs. Weekhart that 
a gentleman friend of his, Mr. Nophath, was going 
over to Waco, and would be glad of a seat in her 
carriage. Mrs. Weekhart objected. The prospect 
of a third party in the carriage was anything but 
agreeable to her. She did not allege this reason, 
however, but said that the springs of the carriage 
were not of the strongest; that the weather was 
too hot to overload the horses; that it would be 
very unpleasant for Mr. Nophath to have to ride on 
the front seat with the negro driver, and everything 
else that she could imagine. 

Mrs. Worthy took her aside and argued that it 
would be very imprudent for her to go on such a trip 
alone with Mr. Blo\y, and would certainly give 
cause for scandalous remarks. Whereat Mrs. 
Weekhart was extremely offended. It was a shame, 
she thought, to suggest such a thing. Mr. Blow was 
above suspicion, and she would not be afraid to go 
with him to the ends of the earth. However, Mrs. 
Worthy persisted, and finally Mrs. Weekhart con- 
119 


120 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


sented to refer the matter to Mr. Blow and leave the 
decision with him. 

Mrs. Worthy represented to Mr. Blow that Mr. 
Nophath was an intelligent man, whose company 
could not but be agreeable, and moreover a person of 
no religion, whom he might be able to influence for 
good. Mr. Blow had no objection to his company; 
in fact, was rather glad to have it, especially if by 
taking him they could gratify Mr. Worthy in any 
manner. So Mrs. Weekhart gave a reluctant con- 
sent to the proposal. 

Presently they bade adieu to the Worthy family and 
drove to the residence of Mr. Nophath to take him 
in. He was in waiting, and soon they were on the 
road. 

Mr. Nophath was an elderly gentleman of sober 
address and good manners, who took pains to make 
himself agreeable. He hoped he was not intruding, 
or putting them to any inconvenience. He had ex- 
pected to take the stage, but Mr. Worthy had urged 
him to accept Mrs. Weekhart’s kind invitation and 
ride with them, and he appreciated her courtesy very 
highly. Of course, Mr. Blow, who spoke as though 
the carriage and the kindness were his own, was 
honored and delighted with his company, and soon 
they were on the best of terms. 

For a time the conversation was brisk and merry, 
Mr. Nophath had a fund of humor and a stock of 
anecdotes apparently inexhaustible with which he 
kept Mrs. Weekhart in fits of laughter, and almost 
made her forget that he was interrupting the tender 
tete-a-tete she had looked forward to. The effect of 
his conversation upon Mr. Blow was not so happy. 
That gentleman’s stock of wit was very small, and 
soon exhausted, and he began to feel annoyed that 
Mr. Nophath absorbed so much of his fair com- 
panion’s attention. He was uneasily conscious of not 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


121 


shining with peculiar brilliancy, and determined to 
make a diversion in his own fayor. So he finally 
remarked, in his solemn style: ^ 

“You failed to attend the meetings in Cleburne, 
Mr. Nophath.” 

Mr. Nophath looked a trifle annoyed as he 
answered: 

“No, you are mistaken, sir; I attended several 
times.” 

“I should hardly call that an attendance,” rejoined 
Mr. Blow. “You did not come regularly enough to 
enter into the spirit of them and receive a blessing 
from them.” 

The other answered carelessly: “No. That is 
very true.” 

“May I ask,” pursued Mr. Blow, in an inquisitorial 
style, “why you did not attend.? Was it through 
simple indifference to religious matters, or from actual 
hostility to God.?” 

“I would prefer, Mr. Blow,” said Mr. Nophath 
frankly, “not to discuss the matter. I have my 
opinions on these subjects and you have yours, and 
probably we are both opinionated, and should simply 
disagree; and to disagree is disagreeable. I dislike 
to be disagreeable.” 

“Yes, sir. So do I,” said Mr. Blow pompously. 
“But a trifling question of likes and dislikes is not to 
be considered beside matters of such importance as the 
eternal interests of the soul. I fear that you are a 
disbeliever, sir, and have no good hope of heaven.” 

“Well, sir,” answered Mr. Nophath resignedly, 
“possibly from your point of view I may be a disbe- 
liever, though I do not consider myself so.” 

“What do you mean by that.? Have you ever 
experienced religion .?” 

“If you wish me to define my position, it is this: 
I believe that there is a God who created and governs 


122 


ADVEhJTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


the world. I believe that I have a soul, that it is 
immortal, and that its condition in the future depends 
on its conduct in this life. These truths I accept on 
grounds of reason. I would gladly believe more if I 
could. I should like to believe that God has revealed 
himself to man, and taught him how to live in this 
world that he may be happy in the next I would 
gladly believe that some provision had been made, as 
the Christian religion says there has, to take away 
the sins of men, and strengthen their natural frailty. 
I have tried to believe these things, as I was taught 
them in my 5^outh by my parents, who were both 
pious Christians and members of the Congregational 
church ; but I cannot believe them, for I cannot find 
the slightest trustworthy evidence to support them.” 

Said Mr. Blow, “Why, sir, you astonish me! 
What greater evidence can you ask than the word of 
God.? We have the Bible, sir, the precious revelation 
that God has given. The Bible is the Christian 
religion, and all that is needed to save the soul.” 

“That is the very point,” returned Mr. Nophath. 
“I was taught from infancy to regard the Bible as the 
word of God. I would be glad to believe that it is. 
But the more I study about it, the less reason I see 
to accept it. If you can show me any good reason 
to think the Bible a divine revelation you would lay 
me under great obligations.” 

“That is very easy,” said Mr. Blow triumph- 
antly. “The Savior tells us that it is. Did he not 
say ‘Search the Scriptures’ .?” 

“Yes, but how do you know that he said that.?” 

“Why, the Bible says so.” 

“Very true. The Bible no doubt claims to be a 
revelation from God, but that proves little. The 
Koran and the Book of Mormon make the same 
claim. Suppose I claimed to be the heir of a great 
estate. Do you suppose I could get possession of it 


ADVEmURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


123 


without some evidence better than my claiming it?” 

“But everybody believes that the Bible is God’s 
word.” 

“Not quite everybody, but a great many, I grant. 
And this wide conviction no doubt creates a strong 
presumption in its favor. If a great many people 
were convinced of the truth of my claim to the sup- 
posed estate, that would be powerful presumptive 
evidence in my favor, but such as would not stand a 
moment in court against or in place of one reliable 
witness. Besides, we know that the greater part of 
this presumption in favor of the Bible is mere prej- 
udice. The mass of our European ancestors were 
converted from heathenism by fire and sword. The 
Bible was thrust on them, and a belief in it instilled 
into their children, and so we have it to-day — merely 
on prejudice and tradition.” 

“But,” answered Mr. Blow, “the Bible has always 
been accepted as the word of God. Every gener- 
ation from the beginning of Christianity has held to 
its truth.” 

“That only carries the tradition farther back and 
makes it more uncertain. We don’t know how peo- 
ple in the third or fourth or fifth century regarded the 
Bible. We don’t know that the book which we call 
the Bible is at all like the one that they had under 
that name. We do know that, for centuries, it was 
in the hands of the Roman Catholic church — a body 
that both of us consider extremely evil and corrupt — 
and we do not know how much they altered it. I 
believe that there are whole chapters, and even 
books, interpolated by them — the sixth chapter of 
John, for instance, and the books of Timothy. They 
were evidently composed in the interests of priest- 
craft. So was the Second Corinthians, and in fact a 
great deal more.” 

Mr. Blow had not the faintest idea of the contents 


124 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELISf 


of the particular portions of Scripture mentioned by 
Mr. Nophath, and feeling uneasily conscious of his 
inability to follow his antagonist into any argument 
on the internal evidences of the Bible, fell back 
upon his former ground. He said: “Whatever the 
Bible may teach, we are bound to accept it as the 
word of God. It is not our business to criticise but 
to believe. And we know that it is God’s word be- 
cause it has always been considered so. The whole 
church in all ages has held this truth, and handed it 
down from father to son from the very beginning. 
If you reject it you have no hope of salvation.” 

“Now you are making an appeal,” rejoined the 
other, “that no Protestant is entitled to. You are 
trespassing on Catholic ground. The Anglican 
church, the Greek church and the Roman church 
advance that very argument. They say: The Church, 
a corporate, organized institution, is as old as — yes, 
older than the Bible, and is a living witness of the 
fact of a divine revelation. Well, if we believe that, 
we must believe the rest of their claims, which we 
cannot and will not do, for they hold sacramentarian 
and sacerdotal doctrines, and claim authority over 
consciences utterly repugnant to the spirit of Prot- 
estantism. If they do have any historical connection 
with primitive Christianity, they have corrupted 
that Christianity and corrupted the Bible to sustain 
their falsehoods. So that, if there is any truth in the 
Gospel, and Jesus Christ did establish a Church, it is 
lost entirely, and the revelation is necessarily lost 
with it. The faith that Protestants have in the Bible 
is merely a blind prejudice that they have inherited 
from Catholic ancestors. The most advanced and 
intelligent Protestants are beginning to recognize this. 
They are throwing away the Bible, with its great 
mass of myths, and returning to the religion of Reason 
and nature.” 


ADyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


125 


Mr. Blow listened in perplexity. He was not con- 
vinced, but he knew not what to answer. 

“You are wrong, sir,” he said, “all wrong! Your 
argument amounts to nothing — just nothing at all 
(with a majestic wave of the hand) ; we know that the 
Bible is the word of God. The Spirit bears witness 
by the effect which it produces on the souls of men. 
I have seen the preaching of the Word produce mar- 
velous outpourings of grace. 1 have seen tears of 
repentance flow. I have heard the rejoicings of 
redeemed souls. These effects could not be produced 
by anything but the Spirit of God.” 

“What do you mean by the Spirit of God.?” 

“I mean the gracious outpouring of His love, by 
which He converts sinners, and rejoices saints.” 

“Your definition is not very exact. Is the Spirit of 
God a divine person, or an effect produced in human 
persons, or an influence that proceeds from the divine 
to the human.?” 

Mr. Blow hesitated a moment and then answered: 

“Well, sir, to be exact, I consider the Spirit to be 
an effect in human souls produced by an effective 
influence that flows from the preached Word.” 

“And what is the precise effect produced by this 
effective influence.?” 

“The precise effect differs in different cases, but it 
may be generally defined as a spiritual awakening, 
or conversion, or regeneration.” 

“Do you consider the usual performances at camp- 
meetings and revivals, as the proper effect of God’s 
Spirit.?” 

“Most assuredly, sir. Those blessed occasions are 
the seasons when the Spirit is most abundantly out- 
poured, and, sir, to characterize them by so irreverent 
an expression as ‘performances,’ is most sinful and 
offensive, sir.” Mr. Blow spoke with dignified 
asperity. 


120 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“I meant no offense,” rejoined Mr. Nophath good- 
humoredly, “but it seems reasonable to suppose that 
an influence exerted by an infinite Spirit, which God 
is, would rather make men act as reasonable beings, 
than like fools and idiots. But I may — ” 

Mr. Nophath was suddenly interrupted by a harsh 
voice, which shouted close to the carriage: 

“Stand! Throw up your hands!” 

The carriage stopped suddenly, and looking up in 
alarm, its occupants found a mounted man with a 
black mask, and a cocked revolver in each hand, on 
either side of them. 

“Now,” shouted one of the masked figures with an 
oath, “ril let you know who Bill Shootem is. 
Hold up your hands, I say, and get out of that car- 
riage.” 

The command was obeyed. The masked man sur- 
veyed the party a moment, and with a volley of hor- 
rible oaths, cried: 

“That’s not the man. Look here, parson, where’s 
that singer feller.^ He’s the man I’m after!” 

Mr. Blow, as white as a ghost, answered, “I beg 
your pardon, sir. If you mean Mr. Smith, the gentle- 
man who was with me at Cleburne, sir, I dismissed 
him, sir, for his very unchristian conduct, and extreme 
incivility to you, sir, at the meeting. I hope you will 
not be angry with me on account of his rudeness, sir. 
I was very much annoyed by it, and — ” 

“Where is he.?” interrupted the ruffian, with an- 
other horrible oath. “I want to settle with him.” 

“I believe, sir, that he went toward Austin. He 
left yesterday morning without sa5dng a word to me.” 

“That’s a lie!” thundered the ruffian. “If you 
don’t tell me where he is in a minute I’ll shoot you, 
you whining dog!” And he pointed his revolver at 
Mr. Blow. 

The evangelist, in an agony of fear, threw himself 
on his knees, and with clasped hands cried: 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


127 


“O don’t shoot! Please, Mr. Shootem, dear, good, 
Mr. Shootem, don’t shoot. I don’t know where he 
is. I swear I don’t. O don’t shoot me!” With 
this Mr. Blow fell to the ground fainting, and Mrs. 
Weekhart, in great distress, assured the villain that 
Mr. Blow had spoken the truth, and interceded 
piteously for his life. 

“Well,” said the desperado, “I don’t reckon I’ll 
shoot him; he looks< to be dead now, the white- 
livered calf. Come, Jake, hurry up and search them 
and let’s be after the other one. He’s the man I 
want.” 

His companion accordingly dismounted and soon 
rifled the pockets, trunks and valises of the travelers 
of all the money and jewelry he could find; then 
mounting their horses the two rode off at a gallop 
across the prairie. 

They were scarcely out of sight when Mr. Blow 
recovered his senses and was overjoyed to find him- 
self alive. But when he learned how the party had 
been robbed of all their valuables, he almost fainted 
again. He broke out into vehement complaints and 
laments. He would have justice of the scoundrels; 
they should refund the money. They should be hung! 
If he ever met them again he would shoot them with- 
out mercy. 

In truth, Mr. Blow was by far the heaviest loser of 
the three. Mr. Nophath had had with him but a few 
dollars to meet his traveling expenses, and the 
same was the case with Mrs. Weekhart, while the 
evangelist lost about eight hundred dollars. No 
good was to be accomplished by complaints, so they 
soon collected the scattered contents of their trunks 
and valises, and resumed their journey. 

The conversation, however, so rudely interrupted, 
was not resumed. Mr. Blow was in no state for 
an argument. He sighed and groaned, and com- 


128 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


plained of his hard fate continually. Mrs. Week- 
hart did her best to comfort him, assuring him that 
she possessed a competence for both, and Mr. No- 
phath listened to his childish petulance with silent 
disgust. So the day passed and toward night they 
arrived at a small village in the midst of the prairie, 
Hillsborough by name, and stopped at the hotel. 

Mr. Blow, before eating or resting, proceeded at 
once to hunt up a magistrate ^d lodge information 
of the robbery, and was little comforted by being 
told that there were already several warrants out for 
the arrest of the desperado, which hitherto had 
proved an impossibility. 

It was soon noised abroad through the village that 
the late arrival was the great evangelist whose 
preaching had created so great a sensation in the 
neighboring town; and Mr. Blow had time scarcely to 
eat his supper before several of the prominent persons 
of the place called to pay their respects. One of 
these, a very earnest religious man, as appeared by 
his conversation, urged Mr. Blow very strongly to 
remain some days in Hillsborough, and hold a few 
meetings, representing that the town was almost 
entirely deprived of religious privileges, and very 
great good might be accomplished. Mr. Blow hesi- 
tated. He did not know whether he could afford the 
time. His engagements were very pressing. He 
feared that the citizens would hardly feel able to 
devote time and means enough to the services to 
make them successful. After a good deal .of dis- 
cussion, he said that as he had just met so great a 
loss on the road, a loss which seriously interfered 
with his ability to travel, if the citizens of the town 
would raise a subscription large enough to partially 
I d unify him, he thought perhaps he might arrange 
to SL y a week. Mr Givenot, to whom this proposal 
was made, answered that the town was very small 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


129 


and the crops bad; he thought that it would be im- 
possible to raise such a subscription. But perhaps 
they might raise twenty dollars. “Well,” said Mr. 
Blow, “it is a matter of no consequence at all. I 
never mention money matters, nor care whether I 
receive anything for my labors. I only spoke of it 
now, for the first time in my long career, because I 
have not cash enough to pay my necessary expenses. 
The consciousness of doing good is reward enough for 
me. I suppose there is a bank here where I can get 
a draft cashed.? In that case I am all right.” 

Mr. Givenot answered that there was no bank, but 
that he himself would be happy to take his draft, as 
he needed a little exchange^ jus.t then. Mr. Blow 
presently produced a check-book, but after some 
show of writing in it, put it up again, and remarked 
that he thought he could get along till he arrived in 
Waco. Mr. Givenot then urged him still more to 
stay, offering to advance him any cash he might be 
in need of and depicting vividly the good that might 
accomplished. But Mr. Blow remained immovable 
in his resolution to go on. 

“At least,” said Mr. Givenot, as he rose to leave, 
“you will preach for us to-morrow; since it is the 
Sabbath, of course you will not travel, and will give 
us a couple of sermons.” 

“I am sorry,” answered Mr. Blow, “that I cannot 
gratify you. My engagement in Waco is very press- 
ing, and it pains me to think that perhaps souls may 
be lost through my already too long delay. I must 
go on to-morrow. ‘The Sabbath was made for man. ’ 
Our Savior sometimes traveled on the Sabbath, and 
I cannot think it wrong, considering the good I hope 
to do, to follow his example.” 

The carriage was at the door early the next morn- 
ing, and our travelers in it, and ready to start, when 
the host, who had followed Mr. Blowout, remarked: 

Adventures 9 


130 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“Excuse me, parson. But I reckon you forgot to 
settle your bill.” 

“Bill!” answered Mr. Blow with an air of astonish- 
ment, “no, but I understood that it was settled!” 

“No, sir, but I always give reduced rates to parsons. 
I shall charge you a dollar, and a dollar and a half 
for the lady, a dollar for the team, and four bits for 
the driver — four dollars.” 

“Thank you,” said Mr. Blow. “Mr. Givenot spoke 
to me about it last night and said not to give myself 
any trouble about the bill, that he would arrange it 
with you. I am astonished that he did not speak to 
you about it.” 

“O, that’s all right, sir,” responded the host. “If 
Mr. Givenot said so, that’s all right. He forgot to 
mention it to me; just be kind enough to wait a 
moment till I step down and ask him about it. Of 
course it’s all right. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

The host disappeared around the corner. 

“Drive on,” said Mr. Blow. “He will find it all 
right, and it is useless for us to lose time.” So off 
they drove. 

They had not gone far however — perhaps a couple 
of miles — when a sharp sound of hoofs followed 
them, and presently mine host, with a revolver belted 
around his waist, and his face exceedingly red, drew 
rein beside the carriage, and said sharply: “Look 
here, parson, that thing won’t do. Hand over that 
money, will you.!* Four dollars and four bits. Don’t 
want any fuss about it, but you can’t beat me.” 

Mr. Blow assumed a look of righteous indignation. 
“Did Mr. Givenot refuse to pay the money.!* Impos- 
sible! He promised positively to do so last night.” 

“Well, he says it’s a lie; that he didn’t promise 
to pay your bill, or anything else, and won’t pay. 
So you’ll have to come down with the cash.” 

“This is very unfortunate,’* said Mr. Blow in a per- 


/IDl/ENTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 131 

plexed manner; “I did not think Mr. Givenot would 
treat me so. You know, sir, that we were robbed 
yesterday of every cent we had, and you ought to 
consider the good work we are engaged in, and make 
no charge for so trifling a matter as one night’s lodg- 
ing.” 

Mine host answered doggedly: 

“I can’t help your being robbed! I’ve got to live. 
You owe me four dollars and a half, and I want it 
right now.” 

“Impossible,” said Mr. Blow, “I have no money, 
I tell you. If you must have it I will send it to you 
from Waco.” 

“All right! Then I’ll take your trunk till I get it. 
I don’t allow no credit to parties I don’t know.” 

Here Mr. Nophath, who had so far looked on with 
a quiet smile playing round his mouth, interfered. 

“Never mind, Tom. Just charge it to me. Mr. 
Blow can pay me the money when we get to 
Waco.” 

“All right, sir. Certainly, sir,” answered the satis- 
fied publican, and turning his rein was soon lost to 
sight on the road. Our travelers peacefully continued 
their journey, Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart over- 
whelming their companion with thanks; and toward 
night, without having met any advonture worth 
noting they crossed the Brazos River and drove into 
the city of Waco. 


CHAPTER XI 


WHICH IS MERELY A CONTINUATION OF THE LAST*. AS 
MAY BE SEEN BY READING IT 

They drove first to a hotel, where Mr. Nophath and 
his baggage were set down, greatly to the relief of 
Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart, who having inquired 
for the residence of the Rev. Mr. Sturmup, betook 
themselves thither in search of hospitality. 

As the carriage stopped before the door the rev- 
erend gentleman was just coming out. 

Mr. Blow put his head out of the carriage and 
inquired, “Does Mr. Sturmup live here.?” 

“Yes, sir; that is my name.” 

“I suppose you received my letter from Cleburne; 
Blow is my name. Rev. Abel Blow, A. B., the evan- 
gelist.” 

“Oh! Brother Blow, is it.?” said Mr. Sturmup,^ 
coming out of the gate and stepping to the side of the 
carriage. “I am delighted to see you, sir. I had 
hoped you would be here to preach this morning. 
Have I the honor of meeting Mrs. Blow.?” 

Mrs. Weekhart blushed deeply, while Mr. Blow 
introduced her, and explained that she was a devoted 
sister who accompanied him in the capacity of singer. 
Mr. Sturmup was delighted to make Mrs. Weekhart’s 
acquaintance, and said: 

“Well, Brother Blow, you will preach for me to- 
night. A large congregation assembled to hear you 
this morning, and your failure to arrive was a great 
disappointment. I will call for you at the hotel 
directly after supper.” 


132 


ADyEhITURES OE Ah! EEAhlGELlST 


133 


“I had hoped to find. a more private place than 
the hotel. It is very disagreeable in my work to 
stop at a public house.” 

“That’s true !” said Mr. Sturmup in a meditative 
way. “It would be pleasanter to be more private. 
I thought of that. I would be glad to entertain you 
myself, but I have — well, the fact is, that my wife’s 
brother and sister with their families are making us a 
little visit, and our house is pretty full. So the best 
thing I could do was to secure rooms for you at the 
Metropolitical Hotel, which you will find very comfort- 
able indeed, and quite convenient to the church. I will 
call for you early this evening. You must not disap- 
point the people.” And Mr. Sturmup walked down 
the street with the satisfied manner of a man who 
has done his whole duty. 

Mr. Blow looked after him a moment, with an air 
of disappointment and perplexity, but, as there was 
nothing else to do, our wayfarers started in quest of 
the establishment with the sonorous title, where their 
rooms were bespoken. 

Punctual to his engagement Mr. Sturmup arrived 
at the hotel, before Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart 
had finished their supper, and brought with him a 
brother minister of .a sister denomination, who, as 
Mr. Sturmup explained, had kindly consented to give 
up his evening service that his congregation might 
enjoy the pleasure of listening to Mr. Blow. 

Mr. Blow received them both most affectionately 
and humbly and expressed his hope that he might be 
able to do something to further the good work in 
which they were engaged. He proceeded to explain 
that never under any consideration did he allow him- 
self to interfere in the slightest manner with the rights 
and duties of the settled ministry. He considered 
his efforts merely supplemental to theirs and always 
endeavored to work with them, and sustain them. 


134 


^DyENTURES OE AN EyANGELlST 


Of this both the ministers approved very highly. 
Mr. Blow went on to say that he never labored for 
a pecuniary consideration. Although poor in this 
world’s goods, he never lowered himself to stipulate 
for any remuneration for his efforts. He preached 
a free gospel and was content to receive whatever 
free-will gifts the Lord put into the hearts of his peo- 
ple to offer. The ministers were greatly pleased and 
impressed with his great self-denial. After some 
time spent in conversation on these and kindred 
topics, Mr. Blow casually remarked to Mr. Sturmup: 

“By the way, dear brother, there will be nothing 
to prevent our using your church for the meetings 
regularly, in case it should seem advisable to continue 
them for some time.?” 

“I think not,” answered Mr. Sturmup, rather hesi- 
tatingly. “I think of nothing now.” 

“Unless I can be certain,” said Mr. Blow decidedly, 
“I shall not begin them, for any change of place is 
very disastrous to the spiritual interests of the meet- 
ings, and, moreover, contrary to the Scripture, which 
says, ‘Whatever house ye go into, stay there. ’” 

“O, there will be no trouble about the place,” 
answered Mr. Sturmup quickly. “It’s about time we 
were starting to church.” At this remark Mrs. 
Weekhart went to her room to prepare herself. 

Mr. Blow went on: 

“You consent then that I shall have the use of the 
church without interference as long as I think proper 
to continue the meetings.?” 

“Why, of course,” said Mr. Sturmup, “provided — ” 

“I cannot begin on any uncertainty, I must be sure 
that the meetings will not suffer any interruption,” 
and Mr. Blow resumed his seat. 

“But surely. Brother Blow, you will preach to-night, 
and we can arrange the matter afterward. You have 
been announced, and the people are very anxious to 
hear you.” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 135 

“Impossible, sir! When I begin I must go on. If 
you disappoint the people and delay the work of the 
Spirit, it is your own responsibility. I did not antic- 
ipate any unwillingness to admit the gospel into the 
house of God.” 

Mr. Sturmup was in a quandary. He dared not 
disappoint his people, to whom he had spoken highly 
of Mr. Blow’s eloquence and devotion, nor did he 
care to face the odium of having refused the use of 
his church for what might prove a great revival; and 
on the other hand he did not like to relinquish the 
control of the church, as Mr. Blow demanded, for an 
indefinite time, nor did he know how the lay author- 
ities of the congregation would be disposed to view 
such action. Anxious to gain time, again he urged 
Mr. Blow to preach for the nonce, and settle the 
other matter the next morning, but Mr. Blow posi- 
tively refused. 

“I do not see. Brother Sturmup,” put in the other 
minister, “why you hesitate about Brother Blow’s 
request. I would gladly tender him the use of my 
church.” The said church was a little affair, seating 
some one hundred persons. Mr. Sturmup answered: 

“I merely desired to consult the deacons first, and 
make some arrangement with the choir. But as 
Brother Blow seems to view the matter as of so much 
importance, I will yield the point at once.” 

“Ah, very well,” said Mr. Blow. “You are very 
kind. Shall we proceed to church.?” 

The “church” to which they proceeded was a large 
brick house, built in the common meeting-house style 
of architecture — that is, on the outside it looked as 
much as possible like a market-house, and on the 
inside like a court-house furnished with pews. When 
the evangelist and his company arrived the congre- 
gation was fast assembling. Mr. Blow marched 
pompously up between the rows of curious faces, 


136 


ADl/ENTURES^ OF AN El^ANGELIST 


with Mrs. Weekhart on his arm, preceded by 
Mr. Sturmup and followed by Mr. Small. As they 
reached the head of the alley Mrs. Weekhart paused. 

“Come on, sister; don’t be bashful,” said the 
evangelist. 

“Don’t you think,” she suggested, “that we had 
better sit here, at least till after the ceremony.'*” 

Mr. Blow looked at her in astonishment: 

“Of course not,” he said. “That would be highly 
improper.” 

“But I don’t understand,” she urged in a whisper, 
“how to go through the ceremony up there. Please 
let us stay here till it’s over.” 

“No; you must overcome your nervousness. You 
will soon get used to it; come!” And Mr. Blow 
mounted the judge’s stand, yclept platform, and 
seated himself on the nicely upholstered sofa, placing 
Mrs. Weekhart on his right hand (where she sat in 
a state of blushing expectancy), and motioning Mr. 
Sturmup to a seat on his left. Mr. Small took a chair 
to the right of Mrs. Weekhart. Presently a fussily- 
dressed, bustling little man descended from a gallery 
at the further end of the meeting-house, and with an 
air of vast importance approached the pulpit and 
whispered tragically to Mr. Sturmup, who at once 
rose and said loud enough to be heard by half the 
congregation: 

“Mr. Blow, allow me to introduce Mr. Hitenor, 
the leader of the choir. Mr. Hitenor, Mr. Blow, 
the evangelist.” Mr. Hitenor grasped Mr. Blow’s hand 
with great fervor and seated himself by his side in 
Mr. Sturmup’s place. 

Said he: “I am delighted to have the honor, sir.” 
Mr. Blow was pleased to meet him. 

“I wished to ask, sir,” continued Mr. Hitenor, “if 
you have any particular preference as to the hymn 
before sermon. We select the first and last hymns 


JDl^ENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


137 


for ourselves, as they are rather indifferent. But we 
are glad to be accommodating with regard to the other, 
if possible. Mr. Sturmup usually has no preference, 
but if you would like to have the hymn in accord with 
the sermon, perhaps you will indicate one; or if you 
will tell me the text, I will select something suitable. 
How will ‘Jesus, Lover of My Soul’ do.!^ That goes 
beautifully to the tune of ‘When the Swallows Home- 
ward Fly. ’ Or perhaps you would like, ‘Lord, in the 
Morning. ’ I have an elegant setting to that from 
Fra Diavolo. ” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Hitenor,” answered Mr. Blow, 
“but I prefer to have the singing done by my com- 
panion, Mrs. Weekhart, who accompanies me for 
that purpose. She will select the hymns, and lead 
them, and be kind enough to say to the organist that 
we will dispense with her services to-night. Instru- 
mental music, I find, is rather a hindrance to the 
Spirit’s work.” 

Mr. Hitenor gre^y very red, and arose *to his feet 
with great dignity: 

“Certainly, sir,” he said with a stiff bow. “Just as 
you please, sir;” and marched back to the choir, 
where his report created such intense displeasure, 
that only the curiosity of the ladies prevented the 
choir’s leaving in a body. 

The meeting-house gradually filled, and mean- 
while Mrs. Weekhart’s embarrassment grew, and 
finally changed into anxiety as time elapsed, and no 
step was taken with regard to the ceremony that she 
was awaiting. She was merged into a state of won- 
dering bewilderment when at last Mr. Blow arose 
and began to address the assembly. 

Mr. Blow, utterly unconscious of her expectations, 
was only intent upon circumventing Mr. Sturmup and 
making himself master of the situation. So when in 
his judgment the opportune moment had arrived, 


138 


/iDVEhlTURBS OF AN EVANGELIST 


he Stood up and deliberately stepping to the front of 
the platform, said: 

“Dear Sisters and Brethren: It is now a long 
time that I have desired to see you eye to eye, and 
speak with you face to face. The spirit that is in 
me has pressed me, saying, ‘Go to Waco. There is 
a great work for you to do there. There is a rich 
harvest for you to reap there. There are many 
souls to be saved there. ’ Led by this guiding I have 
longed to come to you; I have toiled for it; I have 
prayed for it; and at last the way was opened. So 
I wrote of my coming to my dear Brother Sturmup, 
your beloved and devoted shepherd. He has doubt- 
less told you of my coming, and of the work I hope 
to do among you. He has given me freely and nobly 
the use of this church for my meetings as long as it 
shall please the Holy Spirit to pour out himself upon 
us. And He will do it; yes, I feel he will do it 
(growing violent in delivery). I am poor, brethren, 
poor in this world’s goods, yet I ask for no pay- 
ment for my labors. I fell among thieves on 
the road, who robbed me of all that I possessed. 
(Pathetically) Alas, that such things can be, 
in a Christian and civilized country! Yet I ask you 
for nothing. The collections that will be taken up 
at these meetings are rather that you may cultivate 
your Christian liberality than that I desire anything. 
‘The Lord loveth a cheerful giver. ' ‘It is better to 
give than to receive. ’ And I give myself for you. 
It is your souls I aim at, let who will aim at your 
pockets. Alas, I know (with great agony) that many 
of your souls are lost, almost in hell now! I will 
snatch them out. I can snatch them out as I have 
done for many thousands. We must have the Spirit 
poured out. Brother Small, pray for the Spirit.” 

Mr. Blow sat down precipitately and covered his 
face with his pocket handkerchief while Mr. Small 
offered a prayer. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


139 


By the time the prayer was finished, Mrs. Week- 
hart’s feelings had reached a state that can better be 
understood than described. Utter bewilderment, a keen 
sense of personal slight and injury, bitter disappoint- 
ment, indignation, and anxiety, struggled in her heart 
for the mastery; and nothing but her womanly pride 
restrained her bursting into a flood of tears. As it 
was she could scarcely control herself when Mr. Blow 
announced that his dear sister Weekhart would sing 
to the congregation one of her sweet, spiritual songs. 
She managed, however, to check her tears; and after 
tremblingly turning over her book a moment, laid 
aside her bonnet, and standing up sung — 

“Along time I wandered in darkness and sin, 

And wondered if ever the light would shine in. 

I heard Christian friends tell of raptures divine, 

And wished — how I wished! that their Savior were mine. 

I wished he were mine, yes, I wished he were mine, 

I wished — howl wished — that their Savior were mine!” 

She sang two verses with great feeling, especially 
dwelling on the chorus with pathetic emphasis. The 
second verse concluded — 

“I hoped he were mine, yes, I hoped he were mine.” 

She was about to begin the third verse, when her 
eye fell on the chorus — 

“I know he is mine, yes, I know he is mine.” 

She hesitated, and with the tears forcing their way 
from her eyes, sat down. 

Mr. Blow looked at her a moment in perplexity, 
not understanding her but too-apparent agitation, 
then, laying it to bashfulness, he stepped to the 
pulpit, and opening the Bible at random he began 
to read the twenty-third chapter of the Prophet 
Ezekiel. The patient reader is supposed to possess a 
Bible, which presumption makes unnecessary the 
transcription of the matter read. Mr. Blow seemed 
to find it very hard reading: he stumbled through 


140 


ADVEhlTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


a few verses, stammering and hesitating, and mum- 
bling the words, and presently concluded abruptly, 
with the announcement that he would read a selection 
from the New Testament. He whirled over the 
leaves of the Bible, and finding what looked like a 
useful place began to read the seventh chapter of the 
First Epistle to the Corinthians. He had not gotten 
very far into this chapter when the same difficulty of 
speech overtook him, and presently he concluded the 
selection in the midst of the chapter, and asked Mr. 
Sturmup to offer prayer. Mr. Sturmup did so; and 
supposing that the selections read by Mr. Blow had 
been designedly chosen as having special reference 
to the subject of his sermon, he followed up the gen- 
eral subject suggested by them as nearly as he dared, 
and could, in vague expressions, much to Mr. Blow’s 
annoyance. 

After the prayer, Mrs. Weekhart, who had suc- 
ceeded in forcing herself to some degree of compos- 
ure, sang quite touchingly: 

“Safe in the arms of Jesus, 

Safe on his gentle breast,” etc. 

Mr. Blow then arose and announced his text, which 
was the twelfth verse of the seventh Psalm, begin- 
ning, “If he will not turn,” etc. 

The congregation had hitherto been passive. Mr. 
Blow’s prefatory remarks had been heard with some 
interest, but the readings from the Scriptures had 
evidently been attended to by very few, and the 
prayers patiently endured. Even Mrs. Weekhart ’s 
musical efforts had elicited but a faint sign of appro- 
bation from the upturned faces (a feeling not at all 
shared in the gallery, however, where her perform- 
ance was audibly pronounced “horrid” by more than 
one female critic). But when Mr. Blow began speak- 
ing, the pews made an evident effort to bring them- 


ZiDyEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


141 


selves en rapport with him. A general settling of 
position took place, and the crowded rows of faces 
wore a look of intelligent attention. 

Mr. Blow felt encouraged, and threw himself into 
the sermon. Soon the attention of the listeners 
passed into interest, the interest into approbation and 
the approbation — which expressed itself in sundry 
ejaculations — into silent and intense excitement. 
Not a soul in the house but felt the influence of the 
nervous spell that throbbed throughout the closely 
oacked crowd. Higher and still higher swelled the 
tide of feeling until, near the close of the sermon, a 
lady near the pulpit gave a scream and fainted away. 
The scream was re-echoed all over the audience, 
and was followed by great confusion. As the lady was 
carried out, some wept, some laughed hysterically, 
some prayed aloud, one or two began singing, and 
a great number crowded toward the “mourners’ 
bench.” 

Amidst the tumult, Mr. Blow finished the sermon, 
shouting at the top of his voice, walking frenziedly 
back and forth on the platform, and gesticulating in 
the most violent manner. The sermon ended, Mrs. 
Weekhart, whose excitable nature had lost all per- 
sonal feeling in the intensity of the general emotion, 
sang “Come to Jesus” in her very best style, while 
the collection was taken up. The amount collected 
surpassed Mr. Blow’s most sanguine expectations; and 
as the overflowing plates were placed upon the pul- 
pit, he turned to Mr. Sturmup and cried — “O my 
dear brother, God rewards the self-denying efforts of 
his servants. See how the Spirit is poured out! 
Follow up the advantage. Exhort them to come out 
on the Lord’s side.” 

Mr. Sturmup wanted no second invitation. Nerv- 
ous and excitable, he was longing for an opportunity 
to let loose his feelings; and springing to his feet, he 


142 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


poured forth an exhortation which, if inferior to Mr. 
Blow’s sermon in force and elegance, was not a whit 
behind it in vehemence and unctuousness, and pro- 
duced an immense effect in increasing the enthusiasm 
of the hearers. Songs, exhortations, prayers and 
conversions followed until a late hour, and when the 
meeting finally broke up, with the understanding 
that it was to be continued every night of the ensu- 
ing week, some twenty had professed religion, and 
the evangelist and his assistants were utterly ex- 
hausted. 

Mr. Blow retired to his room and was engaged in 
counting over the collection, when he heard a gentle 
knock on the door, and Mrs. Weekhart entered. 
She looked pale and worn, with manifest traces of 
tears in her eyes, but she was composed and digni- 
fied. 

Mr. Blow, embarrassed and astonished, rose to re- 
ceive her, hesitating how to understand her visit. 

‘‘Sit down!” she said in an imperative tone, paus- 
ing in the middle of the floor. He obeyed. She 
went on; 

“I want to ask you, Mr. Blow, what you mean, sir, 
by this strange treatment of me.? Don’t speak! 
Wait till I am done! What do you mean by trifling 
with me in this manner.? I trusted you. I threw 
myself wholly upon you. I compromised myself, be- 
cause I had faith in your nobility and truth. How 
else would I have ventured to come with you alone 
so far from my home, and my natural protector.? 
When you told me that our marriage would be con- 
summated as soon as we arrived here, I believed 
you and trusted you; and how have you treated 
me.? Do you think that I love you so well 
that I will endure any indignity you may please 
to offer me.? (struggling with her tears) No! I will 
appeal to my brother. He will not see me 


ADl^ENTURES OF Ah! EVAmELIST 


143 


outraged. I trusted you, I frankly gave you my 
heart, and you treat it like a plaything. What love 
have you given me in return, that you have never 
spoken one affectionate word since our engagement.? 
I won’t be treated so! I won’t be! You have gone 
too far now, and you shall marry me at once or my 
brother shall know why.?” Here she burst into tears. 

Mr. Blow was confounded and alarmed. He arose 
and took her by the hand, an advance that she angrily 
repelled. 

‘Keep your distance, sir,” she exclaimed, “or I 
will arouse the house.” 

Mr. Blow sat down and said: 

“My dear Mrs. Weekhart, you astonish me. I 
don’t understand you. I have made you no offer of 
marriage, nor spoken once about affection. It is im- 
possible for me to marry you, as you must perceive, 
when you remember my family — ” 

Mrs. Weekhart broke in, furiously: 

“So you will deny the engagement as if it was not 
publicly made at Mr. Worthy’s table before the 
whole family ! — I have witnesses. They all under- 
stood you clearly, and Mrs. Worthy overheard every 
word that passed between us in the parlor afterward.” 

“Indeed,” answered Mr. Blow. “You have cer- 
tainly made a serious mistake. I made no offer of 
marriage — I merely invited you to take Mr. Smith’s 
office as singer. The Worthys certainly understood 
me.” 

“Yes, they understood you. You asked me to cast 
in my lot with you and share your life’s labors. No 
one could misunderstand that. And even had you 
not been half so explicit there was no possible con- 
struction to be put upon your offer, except that it was 
a proposal. You certainly would not expect any lady 
to accompany you about the country except as your 
wife. They understood you and urged me to insist 


144 


ADyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


Upon our being married at my home. What are you 
going to do now} Do you think to deceive me and 
spurn my love.^” 

Mrs. Weekhart’s voice trembled again. Mr. Blow 
showed himself deeply affected; after a pause he said: 

“But what can I do.^^ Consider my family.” 

“What family.? You told me that you had been 
married, but that your wife and children were dead. 
Those were your very, words. Isn’t that so.?” 

Mr. Blow was silent; he remembered endeavoring 
to leave that impression on her mind. She went on: 

“And if that is true, none of your relatives have a 
right to interfere. My family is as good as any. I 
am not old, nor ugly, nor poor. What objection can 
any one make to our marriage.?” 

Mr. Blow assured her that no one alive could pos- 
sibly find any objection to her. 

“Well,” she said, “what will you do.? You have 
compromised me too far to draw back. If you do 
not marry me, I am disgraced; and you know it.” 

Mr. Blow answered: 

“I am very much perplexed. I had no thought of 
marriage. I assure you, on my honor, I did not. I 
did not suppose it possible that you could love me ! I 
dared not presume so high. You are young and 
beautiful and wealthy, and I am but an unknown 
evangelist. But if I might hope — ” rising and ap- 
proaching her. 

“Please sit down,” she said, “you must not touch 
me.” 

Mr. Blow reseated himself, and continued: “If I 
might hope to be worthy of such a wife I should be 
the happiest man in the world.” Mrs. Weekhart 
burst into tears. 

“O, what shall I do! I wish I were dead! You 
don’t care for me.” 

“My darling! I love you. I adore you. I have 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


145 


worshiped you from the first moment I saw you. 
Pray believe me, and don’t cry. May I hope to 
marry you.?” again he rose. 

“Sit down! Don’t come near me! I have gone too 
far already ! I ought not to be here. But I felt that 
I must know what your intentions really were. I 
thought you had deceived me. When are we to be 
married.?” 

“My love, it won’t be possible right away. It 
^7ould entirely break up our meeting for us to be 
married now. And we can’t afford that, for it prom- 
ises to pay very handsomely — I mean — we are likely 
to do a great deal of good. But it shall be as soon 
as possible without injury to the souls we are striving 
to save. Will that content you.?” 

Mrs. Weekhart professed herself contented and 
ready to defer to his judgment, and so retired to her 
room. 


I 


Adventures lo 


CHAPTER XII 


WHEREIN MAY BE SEEN THE EVANGELIST IN THE CA- 
PACITY OF SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR 

When Mr. Blow came down to breakfast on the 
following morning he was glad to find that his fair 
companion was not at the table. He ate hastily in 
order to be through before she came down, in which 
design he was successful. When he had finished his 
hurried meal he donned his hat and was about to go 
out to look at the town, when a gentleman came in 
and asked for him. Mr. Blow was just passing 
through the office at that moment, and, turning, 
was introduced to Mr. Oppenhaus. This gentleman 
was a portly, frank-faced individual with a slight 
German accent. He bowed to Mr. Blow with rev- 
erent courtesy, and entered into an elaborate apology 
for himself, and his fellow-townsmen in general, that 
Mr. Blow and his companion had been permitted to 
put up at the hotel, which apology he wound up by 
inviting the evangelist to make a home of his house 
during his stay in Waco, and presenting a similar in- 
vitation from his sister to Mrs. Weekhart. 

Mr. Blow, with much outward condescension and 
inward rejoicing, accepted both invitations, and the 
two sat down to await Mrs. Weekhart ’s appearance. 

It was half past ten before that lady had finished 
her breakfast, after which Mr. Oppenhaus insisted 
upon settling their bills himself, to which Mr. Blow in- 
terposed a feeble resistance, and then conveyed them 
in a carriage to his house, which stood not far from 
146 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


147 


the church, his sister’s being a few doors off. Most 
of the day was spent by Mr. Blow in receiving com- 
pany. Several ministers called to express their 
pleasure at his coming, and assure him of their ap- 
proval of, and co-operation in his work. Mr. Stur- 
mup spent several hours with him, remaining to din- 
ner. After dinner, Mr. Oppenhaus and his sister 
took Mr. Blow, Mrs. Weekhart and Mr. Sturmup to 
drive through the city and vicinity. After a sumpt- 
uous supper, all went to church. The meeting was, 
with unimportant variations, a repetition of Sunday 
night’s performance. Mr. Blow preached, if any- 
thing, with more vigor. Mrs. Weekhart sang with in- 
creased spirit, ‘the enthusiasm ran higher, the conver- 
sions were more numerous, the collection larger, and 
Mr. Blow retired to his bed, at midnight, exultantly 
happy, though extremely wearied. 

A history like the present necessarily presupposes 
in its author a species of clairvoyance. He must be 
able to hear soliloquies uttered in the profoundest soli- 
tude, to see acts performed in the strictest secrecy, 
and even to read unuttered thoughts, and discern hid- 
den purposes, of which the subjects themselves are 
half unconscious. How else could any truthful ac- 
count of such subjects be given.-* The reader will not 
therefore think it strange if here he find the inner- 
most workings of our hero’s mind disclosed, and read 
the half-formed thoughts of his head upon his bed: 

“I have done well to-day and yesterday. One hun- 
dred odd dollars in two days is good business; and 
how delightful to think that my own good fortune is 
likewise a blessing to sinful souls. Nearly fifty per- 
sons have already been converted by my labors. 
How good is God to bless me so! But he can not 
refuse a blessing where one labors for it so unself- 
ishly as I do. I have wonderful talent for this work. 
There is scarce such another preacher as I in the 


148 ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

country. Spurgeon’s sermons! Yes, but the de- 
livery is the great thing — that is the whole of it. 
None of these fools of ministers here could produce 
the effect with them that I do. I am a genius! How 
they hang on my lips. Strange I did not find my vo- 
cation earlier! I might have been rich long ago. But 
if the meetings hold out as they have begun I shall 
be well-off before long. I won’t preach any more in 
small places — country people are too stingy, and they 
can’t appreciate my talents. It don’t pay. Hannah 
is rich, and if I marry her I won’t need to continue 
preaching. What shall I do about it? Poor Lucy! 
I wonder how she is getting along. .*1 reckon she is 
all right! She can sew, and the people won’t let her 
starve. It was not wrong for me to leave her — for so 
noble an object. I don’t think a man ought to live 
with a woman when she only makes him miserable. 
She can never find me, and nobody that knows me as 
an evangelist can suppose or would dare hint that I 
was a married man. Smith knows it, but he will not 
break faith. Besides, he is gone — nobody knows 
where. I suppose Pll have to marry Hannah. I’m 
not to blame about it anyway. She throws herself at 
me, and threatens me with her brother. I believe 
the scoundrel would as lief shoot me as not. Well, 
nobody could ask a better wife. Rich, tractable, 
young, and so pretty — isn’t she sweet! How ripe her 
lips are! What a plump round hand and arm!” etc.,' 
etc. With these reflections Mr. Blow’s tired senses 
floated off into dream-land, carrying with them these 
last thoughts in the shape of enticing visions. 

On the following morning Mr. Blow had a great 
many visitors. Between the hours of nine and twelve 
there was scarcely a‘ moment in which from three 
or four to a dozen were not in the parlor. Among 
the rest was a young man in flashy attire who had 
been one of the converts of the night before. He 


^DyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


149 


had called early and stayed long, evidently in the 
hope of seeing Mr. Blow alone. At length he arose 
and approaching Mr. Blow, bent down and in a stage 
whisper said: 

“May I see you alone a moment.? I have some 
very important business to speak about.” 

“Certainly,” answered Mr. Blow, “certainly;” and 
excusing himself to the company, conducted the 
young man to his bedroom. When they were seated 
the young man said, after a pause, embarrassed on 
his side and interrogative on Mr. Blow’s: 

“I want to consult you about my duty. I owe my 
conversion to you, and as I confessed in public last 
night I am determined to lead a Christian life. What 
ought I to do.?” 

“Well, sir,” responded Mr. Blow, “you had better 
consult a minister about that. I do not profess to 
give any but the most general religious advice. I am 
called merely to awaken souls — ” 

“But I would rather have your advice. You led 
me to belief, and I want to follow you. Besides, the 
ministers give such contrary opinions that one can- 
not tell which to trust. Please advise me.” 

“Well, since you earnestly desire it, I may depart 
from my rule in your case. But of course anything 
that may pass between us is strictly confidential, for 
I do not wish any of the ministers here to suppose 
that I am — ” 

“Certainly, sir; I understand.” 

After a pause Mr. Blow went on: 

“It is usual in such cases to have a consultation 
fee. I merely mention it as a matter of form. It is 
of no great consequence.” 

The young man looked embarrassed, and putting 
his hand into his pocket said, “How much is it.?” 

“O! anything you like,” answered Mr. Blow indif- 
ferently — “It is a merely professional form.” 


150 


/IDVEhlTURES OF y4N EVANGELIST 


“Will that be enough?” asked the youth, depositing 
two silver dollars on the table. 

“O, certainly. Thank you,” said Mr. Blow, 
pocketing the money. “Now if you will mention the 
points on which you desire advice.” 

“What must I do to be a Christian?” 

“Do? You must have faith; that is the all-impor- 
tant thing.” 

“Yes, but what must I do?" 

“Have faith! nothing more; all works are vain. 
We are justified by faith only.” 

“ I do not mean what works I must do. I know 
that all works are sinful. But what are a Chris- 
tian’s duties? What church must I join?” 

“Well, on that point, since you ask my advice, I 
would say, none. Churches are mere human in- 
ventions and are not mentioned in the Scripture. It 
never tells of Presbyterians or Methodists or Baptists 
or Congregationalists, but only of Christians. 
Churches are hindrances to Christian unity and good 
feeling. Every church is organized on some error, 
and that error is bigoted and exclusive. If these er- 
rors were all abolished the churches would be abol- 
ished. And the time of that great desideratum is 
rapidly drawing near, when the universal suffrage of 
untrammeled Christian feeling shall declare, in no un- 
certain tones, that all denominational lines shall be 
obliterated with the besom of Destruction — all de- 
nominational and sectarian dogmas and principles 
forever buried in the ocean of Oblivion, and naught 
remain but the pure and simple Gospel, the true relig- 
ion of the Bible. If you join a church you oppose by 
so much the inevitable, and hinder the free course of 
God’s will. I advise you not to join any church. Is 
there anything else.^” 

“Do you not think it necessary for me to be bap- 
tized or go to communion ?” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


151 


“Well, I don’t know. It is well enough if you 
think it would help you in any way, but as you have 
already received the baptism of the Spirit, I don’t 
know that a little water can do you any good.” 

“But does not the Bible say that baptism is a sav- 
ing ordinance.?” 

“No, sir. Some, like the Roman Catholics, repre- 
sent it so, but they thus misinterpret the Scripture in 
the interests of priestcraft. All passages which speak 
of baptism as having any saving power must be under- 
stood of Spirit-baptism — that is, conversion or regen- 
eration — and as for the communion, it is a mere rite, 
and rather formal than otherwise. I have never 
thought it necessary for my own good, and cannot ad- 
vise it for yours. Keep your religion as spiritual and 
free from formalism as possible, for we must worship 
God in spirit and in truth. I think there is a danger 
even in saying your prayers at set times. It is so apt 
to degenerate into a habit — a mere habit. Pray when 
and how the Spirit moves you; that is my advice. 
Is there any other point on which you desire light.?” 

The young man could think of none, so Mr. Blow 
led the way back to the parlor. 

He had hardly resumed his seat when a gentleman 
whom he had left in the parlor when he went out 
with the young man, said: 

“I would be glad of a few words with you in pri- 
vate, Mr. Blow, if it be no intrusion.” 

“It will afford me pleasure,” answered the evangel- 
ist. “Just step into my room.” When they were 
closeted together the gentleman said : 

“I am not what you call a believer, but I have 
been anxious to ask you some questions on religious 
matters.” 

“I don’t desire any controversy,” answered the 
evangelist sharply. “It is not my business to con- 
trovert with unbelievers.” 


152 


ADyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“Nor do I desire controversy,” said the other. “I 
am seeking for light. I have been trying to get relig- 
ion for ten years. I have been attending church, and 
going to camp-meetings and revivals constantly. Yet 
I can not find any light, but seem to get deeper into 
darkness. I heard your sermon last night and the 
night before, and concluded that you could help me 
if anybody could, and for that reason I desired an in- 
terview.” 

Mr. Blow repeated his remarks about a consulta- 
tion fee. 

“Ah!” answered the gentleman, “I did not know 
that your profession and mine agreed in that particu- 
lar. But it’s all right.” And he laid down five dol- 
lars. “Is that satisfactory.?” 

“Certainly,” said Mr. Blow, taking the money. 

The gentleman continued: “I want to ask you why 
I can not experience what is commonly called ‘get- 
ting religion. ’ I believe in the Bible, I believe in 
God and in Christianity, I am not conscious of living 
in any sin, and I have long tried to get religion, but 
it seems that I cannot. What is the matter.?” 

Mr. Blow reflected a moment, and then said: 
“Probably you lack faith — living faith.” 

“What is faith, in your sense of the word.?” 

“Faith is belief — trust. A child has faith in its 
father; a man has faith in his friends. Faith is the 
hand by which we grasp God’s.” 

“I believe! I believe in the existence and power of 
God. I believe in Jesus Christ the Son of God. I 
believe his incarnation and suffering and death and 
resurrection; that he established the Christian relig- 
ion for the salvation of all men. What more faith 
do I need.?” 

“You need a faith to give yourself to God — to cast 
yourself wholly upon Him and trust Him to save you 
— a faith that can enter the very divine presence and 
lay hold upon the infinite mercies.” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


153 


“Well, but how can I get into His presence? Where 
shall I find Him ? By what means obtain the salva- 
tion that I know He worked out for me? I want 
some title-deed — some assurance that my own sins 
are washed away, and that I am accepted with God. 
That is the meaning of getting religion is it not? 
How can I get it ?” 

“The assurance that you speak of comes only by the 
Spirit. You must be converted and become as a 
little child. The Spirit is only to be obtained by 
faith and prayer, and sheds himself abroad through 
such humble instruments as I. If you attend our 
meetings faithfully and prayerfully you cannot fail of 
a blessing. I am destined, I feel, to save many souls 
here.” 

The gentleman sat a few minutes in despondent 
silence, then said: 

“Can you not assure me that my sins are forgiven? 
Is there no power in absolution or sacraments to 
really cleanse the soul ? The Bible reads as though 
there were. O ! I would give all I am worth, to know 
that I am saved.” 

“I can assure you of this, that if you will believe 
you shall be saved. Salvation is full enough and free 
enough and sovereign enough to include every sinner 
such as you. But there is nothing that can assure a 
soul of salvation but the Spirit in his heart.” 

“How may I know when I have the Spirit?” 

“Know! You must know by the effects. If a man 
has been drinking how do you know it ? He laughs 
and shouts and sings. So the Spirit in your heart 
cannot be hid. You must feel it.” 

“But how does it feel? Perhaps I may have had 
it and failed to recognize it, not knowing what to ex- 
pect.” 

“Impossible! It cannot be mistaken. It makes it- 
self felt. It works an assurance of its blessed pres- 


154 


ADVEhITURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


ence and mighty workings that can never be con- 
founded with anything else. I am sure you will ex- 
perience it ere long, if you attend the meetings faith- 
fully. Is there anything else you would like to con- 
sult me about.? We must be brief, for I am staying 
away too long from the company.” 

“No, sir,” said the other, “I believe not. But I can- 
not understand why, since God established a relig- 
ion to bring salvation to all sorts and conditions of 
men. He did not give it real power in some definite 
way to take awaysin, and assure people of its bless- 
ings — but left all that to a secret feeling of one’s 
heart. I am a lawyer, sir, and human law does not 
leave a man’s guilt or innocence, his rights, priv- 
ileges or duties, to be determined by his subjective 
feelings. When I enter a suit in court, if I gain it, I 
get a writ of judgment.” 

Mr. Blow made no answer, but said: 

“Well, sir, if you are ready, we will return to the 
parlor.” 

When they entered the parlor they found the com- 
pany all gone except one lady,^and as the lawyer made 
his adieu immediately, Mr. Blow was left alone with 
her. 

“I am very glad,” she said at once, “to have an 
opportunity to speak privately with you, for I know 
that so pure and holy a man would not deceive me, 
and I am anxious to consult you about a matter of 
private duty.”- 

Mr. Blow was rather tired of giving private advice, 
and said: 

“My dear madam, you had better consult Mr. 
Sturmup, or some other worthy minister. My pro- 
fession is not to counsel individuals, but to convert 
souls.” 

The lady, however, persisted and begged him to 
hear her. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


155 


“Well, madam,” he said, “in that case, I shall 
have to charge you a consultation fee. I never give 
private advice under any other consideration. The 
fee is five dollars.” 

The lady was taken considerably aback, and asked 
if he would trust her until the next day, as she had 
no money with her. Mr. Blow assented, and she 
said: 

“The matter about which I want to ask you is this: 
I am a married woman, and have four children, but 
my husband is very disagreeable to me; I am not 
happy in my home, and I want to leave him. But I 
am a Christian, and do not want to do wrong. Do 
you think it would be right for me to go .?” 

“Does your husband have the same feelings to- 
ward you.^” 

“No, I think not. He seems very fond of me.” 

“Does he ill-treat you in any way.?” 

“O dear no! He is as kind as he can be. He 
gives me everything I want. And that only makes 
me dislike him the more. We are utterly incompati- 
ble!” 

“What is the incompatibility.? Do you disagree on 
religious questions.?” 

“No. He is a very pious man, in his way. But 
he don’t talk to me — hardly ever. When he is at 
home, he reads, and reads. He is ready enough to 
talk to anybody else; and besides, his attentions are 
very unpleasant to me. I can’t be happy with him.” 

“Have you felt so toward him always.?” 

“No, I loved him, I thought, when we were first 
married.” 

“How long have you had this feeling of dislike to 
him.” 

“Several months; since January, perhaps,” 

“Can you assign any cause for it.? Has anything 
come between you.?” 


156 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


<‘No!— well, perhaps— I can’t say — but possibly it 
might be. Don’t ask me that question!” 

“But how is it possible forme to advise you unless 
I know all the circumstances.?” 

“But can you not tell me whether it is right to 
leave my husband.?” 

“No — for that depends on the circumstances.” 

“Well, I will tell you all, if you will solemnly prom- 
ise never to mention it.” 

“Certainly, I promise.” 

“On your honor, before God.?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, then; I thought I loved my husband, and was 
happy with him until I met a gentleman, last win- 
ter, with whom I did really fall in love. I couldn’t 
help it. One can’t control one’s affections. I then 
realized I had never loved my husband, but only en- 
dured him. You can’t imagine how unhappy I am! 
This gentleman urges me to elope with him, but I 
don’t want to do wrong. Do you think it would be 
very wrong.?” 

“Why not get a divorce .? I don’t think I would elope ; 
it would merely cause an unnecessary scandal. A di- 
vorce in legal shape would be far better.” 

“I’m afraid a divorce would not be granted me. 
Mr. — that is, the gentleman — says it is very doubtful, 
and that it would merely be an unnecessary delay 
anyway. Do you think it would be so very wrong to 
go.?” 

Mr. Blow walked the floor meditatively. 

“Well,” said he, “the Scriptures’ teaching on 
that point is very indefinite. In one place it allows 
a writing of divorcement, and . in another place, if I 
remember rightly, it says that a woman is bound by 
law to her husband as long as he lives; but that 
seems to treat the legal rather than the gospel side 
of the question. On the whole, it seems to me a 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


157 


matter that each one’s conscience must determine for 
itself. So that I would advise — that is, if you are 
perfectly convinced that you cannot longer live hap- 
pily with your husband and would be happy with this 
other gentleman — after all, happiness is the great 
thing. God desires our happiness before everything 
else — and if you would be happy so, and feel in your 
conscience that you are not doing wrong — ” 

The sudden entrance of Mrs. Weekhart and Miss 
Oppenhaus interrupted Mr. Blow, and, a moment 
after, Mrs. Oppenhaus came in to call them to din- 
ner. She pressed the inquirer to take dinner with 
them, but the latter declined and departed. 


CHAPTER XIII 


WHICH RELATES SOME INSTRUCTIVE AND ENTERTAIN- 
ING EPISODES THAT BEAR ON THE FURTHER DEVEL- 
OPMENT OF THIS RARE HISTORY 

Days passed on and the meetings continued with un- 
abated interest. Mr. Blow preached nightly and with 
great effect to crowded congregations, and the fruits 
of his labors, spiritually and financially, were such as 
to cause him no little satisfaction. Never in his life 
had he felt so entirely pleased with himself and his 
surroundings. He was sought after, petted and lion- 
ized to a degree that amazed him. The days were 
a succession of feasts and pleasures, the nights of 
gains and triumphs. 

On the morning of the second day after the events 
recorded in the last chapter, the evangelist was wait- 
ed upon by a company of four gentlemen who re- 
quested the honor of a private interview. 

This request being granted, one of the party, a very 
tall and very thin gentleman, who wore his hair long 
and his face smooth-shaven, and possessed a wildly- 
staring eye, and a dramatic manner, took his station in 
the midst of the floor, in front of Mr. Blow, and after 
a profound bow thrust his right hand into his bosom, 
raised his left hand argumentatively, and said: 

“Most reverend and eloquent Sir: We who are 
here present have the honor to be the Pious College of 
the Sub-apostolic Administrators of the Free United 
Reformed Catholic Church Protestant of the Simple 
Believers.” He paused to give this announcement 
158 


ADVEhlTURES OF EVANGELIST 


159 


its full effect, and Mr. Blow expressed great delight 
at meeting the gentlemen of the Pious College. The 
speaker continued: 

“I, sir, though unworthy, have the distinguished 
honor to be the Quadrennial Grand Primate of the 
Pious College of Sub-apostolic Administrators of the 
Free United Reformed Catholic Church Protestant 
of the Simple Believers.’' He recited this title in a 
most solemn and deliberate style, and again paused. 

Again Mr. Blow was openly delighted, with a se- 
cret wonder as to the meaning of it all. 

“Possibly, sir,” pursued the speaker, “you may 
never have heard of this Free United Reformed 
Catholic Church Protestant of the Simple Believers. 
In that case, as Quadrennial Grand Primate of the 
Pious College of Sub-apostolic Administrators, in the 
discharge of my office of light-bearer to the world, 
I shall be glad to enlighten you, before I proceed to 
the business that has brought the Pious College of 
the Sub-apostolic Administrators to your presence.” 

Mr. Blow would be very glad indeed to be informed. 

“Sir, myself and certain friends, searching the 
Scriptures by the divine inspiration of the Holy Spir- 
it, or as I should properly say, the Comforter, dis- 
covered a truth which has been forgotten for ages, if, 
indeed, it were ever known; that is, that the Church 
of Jesus Christ must be and is essentially One. It 
cannot exist in dividuality. Unity is its singular 
characteristic. We looked abroad over the world 
and found that this unity was not there. Diversity is 
universal. We prayed for singular illumination for 
the restoration of this essential mark of God’s work, 
and the Comforter spake to us in the secret of our 
hearts, and said, ‘Unify.’ This divine admonition 
we obeyed at once by drawing up the constitution of 
the Free United Reformed Catholic Church Prot- 
testant of the Simple Believers, and electing the 


160 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


Pious College of Sub-apostolic Administrators, of 
which I was appointed by the Comforter the first 
Quadrennial Grand Primate. You see, sir, at once, 
that we are the center of unity for Christendom. 
When all Christians have abandoned their sinful 
divisions and united with us, the oneness of the truth 
will be declared to all the world, and there is no rea- 
son why they should not do so at once. We have no 
creed. We call upon all men to lay down their vain 
creeds. If they will make the simple confession, ‘I 
believe; help Thou mine unbelief,’ at once they are 
admitted to the rite of Enlightenment, whereb}^ the 
truth enters into them and they into the truth, and 
receive the weekly washing of baptism, whereby they 
are purged and kept clean from every sin.” 

“Do you administer baptism every week.?” asked 
Mr. Blow. 

“Yes, sir. All who wish to remain in the singular 
unity of the Simple Believers must be baptized every 
Sabbath-day to be purged from all sin. The Script- 
ures plainly teach that sin is washed away by being 
buried with Christ beneath the waters of Jordan; 
therefore at great expense we procured enough of 
this water to fill a tank, in which every believer is 
immersed weekly. Thus we are kept pure from sin, 
and the gift of Enlightenment is preserved unbecloud- 
ed. But one must be enlightened before he or she 
can share that privilege.” 

I do not think I understand exactly what you mean 
by enlightenment.” 

“The Scripture says, that by the laying on of the 
Apostles’ hands the Holy Ghost is given. The rite 
of Enlightenment, therefore, is the ceremony by 
which the Comforter is imparted to lead the Simple 
Believer into all truth. The Quadrennial Grand Pri- 
mate of the Pious College of Sub-apostolic Adminis- 
trators takes him who is willing to confess, ‘I believe. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


161 


help Thou mine unbelief, ’ and lays his hands upon his 
eyes, his ears, his mouth, his hands and his feet: 
His eyes, that he may see the truth ; his ears, that he 
may hear the truth; his mouth that he may speak 
the truth, his hands, that he may do the truth; his 
feet, that he may walk in the truth. 

“Now, sir, if you are prepared, I will proceed, ac- 
cording to my high office as Quadrennial Grand Pri- 
mate of the Pious College of Sub-apostolic Adminis- 
trators, to administer apostolically to you the sacred 
rite of Enlightenment, after which I will proceed to 
the business which has brought us together — ” 

“Excuse me,” answered Mr. Blow, “I am hardly pre- 
pared yet to receive the rite of Enlightenment. Per- 
haps it would be better to consider the business first, 
that I may have time to give the matter my undi- 
vided attention.” ^ 

“We had hoped, most reverend and eloquent sir, 
that you would first consent to Enlightenment, lest 
without it your darkness prevent your discerning the 
path of singular unity and imperative duty. But as 
you prefer it, I will at once proceed to deliver the 
call of the Comforter. The blindness and error of 
man is so great that but few have found the Singular 
Unity of the Free Reformed United Catholic 
Church Protestant, and as we prayed for illumination, 
the Comforter said secretly in our hearts, ‘Seek an 
eloquent evangelist who, after Enlightenment, may 
declare the Singular Unity to man.’ 

“The Pious College has heard you preach and has 
determined that you are the man designated by the 
Comforter. We therefore convened to bring you 
the Divine Call.” 

“I understand, then, sir, that you desire to secure 
my services as pastor of your denomination.” 

“So perhaps it would be called among the sects of 
division. Ours is not a denomination, but the Sin- 


Adventures ii 


162 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


gular Unity. Your office, however, would be simply 
that of evangelist. Among us all ecclesiastical 
authority pertains to the Pious College, and is exer- 
cised by the Quadrennial Grand Primate.” 

“What — a — how much — a — that is, what are the 
pecuniary conditions of the office of evangelist 

“The Pious College understood you, most eloquent 
sir, to state that you never stipulated a pecuniary 
consideration for your evangelistic efforts. But as 
we understood also that you were not rich in this 
world’s goods, we concluded at our recent conclave, 
that we might be able to offer you fifty dollars a 
month, which, in our opinion, will be amply sufficient 
to meet all your necessities.” 

“Well, gentlemen,” said Mr. Blow, “I thank you 
profoundly for the honor you have done me. But I 
shall need some time to weigh the matter thoroughly, 
and decide as to my duty. The unity of Christians 
is a subject that has long engrossed my thoughts and 
my prayers.” 

“But, most worthy evangelist, the Pious College 
is anxious that you should enter upon your sublime 
duties at once — that by transferring your labors, dur- 
ing the present state of popular feeling, to the Free 
United Reformed Catholic Church Protestant, many 
souls may be brought to the knowledge of the Sin- 
gular Unity, and be led to receive the Enlightenment 
of the Comforter.” 

“You must admit, though, gentlemen, that such a 
step would be disastrous to the work in which I am at 
present engaged. The change which you propose 
would destroy the enthusiasm of my meetings at 
once, and many souls would be lost in consequence.” 

“I, sir, as Quadrennial Grand Primate, perceive 
by the illumination of the Comforter, that you are mis- 
taken. Many more souls will be lost from ignorance of 
the Singular Unity, than from any change in the place 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


1G3 


of your labors, which you also would perceive if you 
enjoyed the gift of Enlightenment. However, the 
Pious College will allow you to continue your meet- 
ings as they are, under the supervision of the Quad- 
rennial Grand Primate, if you will consent to receive 
at once the rite of Enlightenment, and preach the 
Singular Unity of the Free United Reformed Catho- 
lic Church Protestant of the Simple Believers, 
under the illumination of the Comforter.” 

Mr. Blow protested that he could by no possibility 
make up his mind in so short a time; that he would 
give the matter full and careful consideration, and 
signify his conclusion to the Pious College in due or- 
der — with which assurance the Pious College was fain 
to be content, and retired. 

As they were going out Mr. Sturmup entered: 

‘‘ I see you have had a visit from the Roughedites, 
Mr. Blow.” He said. 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Blow. “Do you know these 
gentlemen ? What do you call them .?” 

“Roughedites. They are a s^ct established here 
a few years ago by Mr. Rouglted, the one with the 
long hair.” 

“Have they a large membership.?” 

“No, not very large; at first they grew very rapidly, 
and threatened to absorb everything, but latterly they 
have fallen off very much.” 

“They seem to have some very peculiar opinions.” 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Sturmup with a deep sigh; “it 
is strange what fanaticisms and absurdities men will 
run into when they abandon the established traditions 
of a pure Christianity.” 

“But they derive their doctrines from the Bible, do 
they not .?” 

“Certainly. But the Bible is full of darkness, sir, 
without the guide of authority. It is the word of 
God but it needs to be interpreted. The office of the 
church is to explain the Scripture.” 


164 


ADVEmURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“What particular church has that authority? As 
I look at it, none of our churches have traditions that 
go beyond the Reformation, and I do not see why Mr. 
Roughed has not as much right to his understanding 
of Scripture as Luther or Calvin had to theirs. The 
spirit of the Reformation, sir, was a breach with the 
false principle of authority in religious matters. Its 
object was to set men’s minds free from slavery. 
Since then there is no such thing as authority. 
‘The Bible is the religion of Protestants;’ and my 
interpretation is as good as yours. What tradition 
of weight can your church claim ? It is no older than 
John Wesley. Was he inspired?” 

“We had better not discuss this subject. Brother 
Blow,” said Mr. Sturmup, “I lear we shall disagree. 
Will you walk out ? I would like to show yon Broth- 
er Jones’ garden. It is quite a wonder.” 

A day or two after the occurrence last recounted 
Mr. Blow was engaged in a conversation in the street 
with some gentlemen, when the current of remark 
turned upon the Roman Church. 

Mr. Blow was loud in his denunciation of its 
bigotry, idolatry, ignorance and priestcraft, and 
affirmed that he had long desired to meet a priest in 
open debate, but had found them uniformly afraid to 
defend their dogmas in public. “Ah!” said one of 
the gentlemen, “how fortunate! Here comes Father 
St. Clair now! Let me introduce him. Father St. 
Clair, allow me to introduce Rev. Mr. Blow, the 
evangelist. He wishes to have some conversation 
with you.” 

“I have great pleasure to know the gentleman,” 
said the priest, bowing politely to Mr. Blow, “and 
shall find delight to converse with him.” 

“I am glad to meet you, sir,” said Mr. Blow pomp- 
ously, “and you will allow me, sir, to hope that you 
have experienced religion.” 


ADyEhITURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


165 


“The gentleman is very kind,” answered the priest 
with another bow, “I thank him! I have the honor 
to be one religious, though very unworthy.” 

“You believe in the infallibility of the Pope, I un- 
derstand, and worship images, and hold confessions.” 

“I have difficulty to understand the gentleman 
enough clearly. Has he desire to be instructed of 
the infallibility, or has he desire to be confessed.?” 

“I desire, sir, to show you your error and folly m 
belonging to the idolatrous Church of Rome. How 
can you presume to take the place of God by 
hearing confessions and pretending to give absolution 
for sins.?” 

“It seems that the gentleman has wish of having 
some dispute with me touching religious questions. If 
I have right to think so, I beg to excuse me, since I 
understand English enough badly: I will with pleas- 
ure talk to him in French.” 

“That is a mere subterfuge, sir. You are afraid to 
discuss your religion in public. If it is not so, tell 
me how you dare hear confessions .?” 

“I have not afraid, monsieur, to speak the truth al- 
ways; but I have not desire to dispute, nor to offend 
with bad English. I wish monsieur much pleasure. 
Adieu.” And the priest with a polite bow walked 
away. 

“There, gentlemen,” said Mr. Blow, “you see how 
it is. I have never been able to find one among 
them who would defend his faith. I challenge any 
priest in the United States to meet me in a public 
discussion. I have issued and published that chal- 
lenge time and again, and never- could get an answer 
from one. Their system is rotten at the core. Its 
corruption springs from the confessional, and infects 
the whole body.” 

“I hardly think, Mr. Blow,” said one of the gentle- 
men present, “that you do Father St. Clair justice. 


166 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


He is hardly able to sustain a conversation, to say 
nothing of an argument, in English. I would like to 
ask you a question or two about this matter.” 

“Certainly, sir,” answered Mr. Blow, “I shall be 
glad to enlighten you as much as lies in my power.” 

“What is your great objection to confession.^” 

“Why, sir, its impurity.” 

“That, sir, is a point of practice and not of the- 
ology. All things are liable to be abused, and the con- 
fessional may be, sometimes; I myself think that its 
evil possibilities are greatly exaggerated. But leav- 
ing that aside, what theological objection have you to 
the confessional.?” 

“That it puts a man in the place of God; no man 
can forgive sins.” 

“But did not our Lord say to his apostles, ‘Whoso- 
ever sins ye remit they are remitted unto them.?’ 
How can one forgive sins until he knows what they 
are .?” 

“That passage has no reference to the subject of 
confessions.” 

“No.? Don’t you believe in the Bible.?” 

“I certainly do, sir.” 

“But don’t you believe that it means what it says.? 
If it says that a thing is black does it mean that it is 
white .?” 

“I do not see what bearing that remark has on the 
subject of confession. We were speaking about con- 
fession, sir. It is a soul-destroying snare — a deadening, 
stupefying thing — a superstitious, idolatrous and blas- 
phemous thing. In my opinion one of the worst sins 
a man can commit is to go to confession. It is a sin 
against the Holy Ghost.” 

“But you must admit, sir, that the power to for- 
give sins, supposing it were intrusted to a man, car- 
ries with it, of necessity, the right to hear — even to 
require — confession .?” 


ADyEJ^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


1C7 


“Your supposition is impossible; the power to for- 
give sins could never be intrusted to a man,” 

“You admit then that these two things must go to- 
gether?” 

“No, sir I I admit nothing of the sort!” 

“But why not? Can a physician prescribe for a 
case that he has not examined? Can a merchant 
square accounts that he has not looked into?” 

“Of course not! But that has nothing to do with 
the question.” 

“I think it has. How could one heal a sin which 
he had not examined?” 

“No one can heal a sin. The Scripture says, ‘God 
only can forgive sins.’” 

“But you cannot deny that if one had the power of 
absolution, he must by consequence have the right to 
hear confession ?” 

“Well, I suppose so. But what does that prove, 
since we know that no man has the power of absolu- 
tion.” 

“Excuse me, sir, we know nothing of the sort. Our 
Lord said, and proved, that he, as a man, had power 
to forgive sins. That power he delegated in ex- 
press terms to his apostles, and to my mind, any min- 
ister of the gospel who denies the existence of that 
power clearly shows that he has neither part nor lot 
in that ministry of which the apostles were the repre- 
sentatives.” 

Mr. Blow was about to reply with severe rebuke, 
when a brisk, sharp-faced young man who came 
along, stepped up to him with a look of recognition, 
and extending his hand exclaimed: 

“Why, how are you, old fellow! How did you get 
here ?” 

Mr. Blow changed color slightly, but drew himself 
up with dignity, saying: 

“Excuse me, sir. You have the advantage of me. 


168 


ADyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


I do not remember having had the honor of your ac- 
quaintance.” • 

“Well, here’s a go!” said the brisk young man. “I 
have the honor to be J.W. Drummer, of the house of 
Clothes, Goods and Co., Chicago — at your service; 
and from this sample I judge you to be Abe Blow- 
man, Esquire, formerly of the house of Smut, Coal 
and Co., of Randolph St. Perhaps you don’t re- 
member the billiards we had together last winter at 
Snug Hole.” 

The gentlemen, Mr. Blow’s companions, gazed 
from him to the brisk young man with undisguised 
astonishment. Mr. Blow said in his haughtiest style: 

“Pardon me, sir; you are evidently mistaken in 
the man. My name is Blow. Rev. Abel Blow, 
evangelist. I have never met you to my knowledge, 
nor have I ever been in the city of Chicago. If you 
will excuse me, sir, I am engaged at present.” 

“Here’s a rum one!” ejaculated the brisk young 
man, “I’d ’a’ sworn on a stack of Bibles as big as a 
meeting-house that your name was Blowman, and 
that you were a sewing-machine agent. Pardon my 
intrusion. Good day!” And he marched briskly 
away. 

Mr. Blow looked after him a moment perplexedly 
and remarked: 

“It is very strange, I have been called by that name 
three times within as many months. There must be 
a striking likeness between its owner and myself. A 
very forward young man that.” 

“I think,” said the gentleman who had sustained 
the priest’s argument, “that I remember having seen 
in the St. Louis papers, a few weeks ago, a report 
that a person of that name had absconded from some- 
where in Illinois. What is the name, Bloyer, Blot- 
turn.?” 

“Blowman!” answered Mr. Blow shortly. “Ex- 


AD^EhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


169 


cuse me, gentlemen, it is near my dinner hour.” 

When Mr. Blow sat down at Mr. Oppenhaus’s 
table, shortly after, it was observed that his beard 
was entirely gone and that he wore a pair of eye- 
glasses. During a lull in the conversation, he re- 
marked: 

“My ey-es have pained me very much to-day. I 
fear I am injuring my sight by overwork. It grieves 
me to think it, but I shall be obliged to give up 
preaching for a time.” 

A chorus of regrets, remonstrances and expostula- 
tions followed this announcement. “I cannot think,” 
said Mr. Blow, “that it is right for me to destroy my 
health. I have felt quite unwell for several days. I 
cannot sleep at all, and my nervous system is severe- 
ly strained.” His appetite was evidently unimpaired 
though, for he ate a hearty dinner, after which he re- 
tired to his room and lay down. 

In a short time there was a knock at the door, 
and Mrs. Weekhart came in with anxious inquiries 
for his health, and careful suggestions of medicines. 
She was so grieved to see him sick, and felt so anx- 
ious about him, and begged him for her sake to 
take care of his health. Mr. Blow was glad to think 
that she cared for him. Her sympathy was very sweet 
and consoling. He thought he needed no medicine 
but rest, and perhaps a change of air. He had in- 
jured his nervous system dreadfully years ago, by la- 
boring in a great revival beyond his strength. He 
felt sure that some day he would drop dead in the 
pulpit. But she need not grieve. He was ready to 
lay down his life for the Master’s service. Mrs. 
Weekhart burst into tears. “O! darling Abel, don’t 
be sick! Please take care of your health. What can 
I do for you .?” 

“Don’t be excited, my love, I think I only need 
rest. If you will leave me, and not let me be dis- 


170 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


turbed, I think I can sleep now. I shall not be able 
to leave my bed to-day; so please send word to Mr. 
Sturmup that I am too ill to preach to-night. You 
had better not go to church, since I shall not be there. 
And if you will please have a light supper brought to 
me before night, a cup of tea, with a few slices of 
toast, and three or four eggs, hard boiled, and a little 
fried ham or chicken, I may be able to eat a little. 
And, Hannah my love, have the horses and car- 
riage ready for us to start by six o’clock in the morn- 
ing. I’m persuaded that an immediate change of air 
is the only thing that can save me from a serious ill- 
ness. We will go to Austin. I understand that is 
quite a town, and we may succeed bettejr there than 
here. I’m sorry to lose to-night’s work. There will 
be a large congregation probably.” And Mr. Blow 
sighed deeply. “Now you may go, my love, and I 
will try to rest.” 

Mrs. Weekhart hesitated a moment, then stooping 
down, pressed a fervent kiss on his forehead, and 
hurried blushing from the room. 

There was no small stir in the congregation that 
night, when Mr. Sturmup arose and with a sorrowful 
air announced that his dearest and most eloquent 
brother, the evangelist, had been taken suddenly ill, 
and was confined to his bed. 

In one of the front pews sat the gentleman who 
had held the morning’s argument about confession 
and by his side the brisk young man, Mr. Drummer of 
Chicago. When the announcement was heard, they 
exchanged glances, and Mr. Drummer proposed to 
the other in a whisper that they should go, which 
they did, with half the congregation behind them. 
As they passed the door, Mr. Drummer said: 

“Here’s a go! He won’t come to church because 
he is afraid I would know him. I thought I recog- 
nized him in spite of his good clothes, and now I am 
sure of it.” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


171 


‘‘Do not be too sure; you may be mistaken. He 
says that he has been taken erronously for that Mr. 
What-do-you-call-him, several times. If you should 
make a mistake it would be very serious, for this 
gentleman is most popular and successful, and repu- 
tation is everything to a man of his profession.” 

“Well, I am' sure enough to write to those who 
will know him.** There is a warrant out for him, and 
it won’t hurt to have a detective take a look at him. 
Beside, there is a little reward offered for information.” 

The gentlemen parted at the next corner, and the 
sharp-faced young man walked briskly off by himself, 
muttering, “Here’s a go! Abe Blowman before the 
footlights in the character of your pious preacher. 
It’s too good!” 


CHAPTER XIV 


WHEREIN THE COURSE OF EVENTS PURSUES THE EVEN 
TENOR OF ITS WAY, BUT NOT WITHOUT SOME 
NOTABLE OBSERVATIONS 

“How delightful, how mild, how beautiful is every- 
thing! The sun shines forth like the great smile of 
nature. The lowing herds go peacefully forth to crop 
the green feast freely spread for them in rich abund- 
ance by the great All-mother. The birds carol their 
morning hymn on glad wings. Every tiny insect by 
the wayside rejoices in peace and plenty. How 
truly does the poet say: 

“ ‘And every prospect pleases, 

But only man is vile.’ ” 

It was Mr. Blow who spoke, in a weak, languid 
tone, from the corner of the carriage wherein he re- 
clined, propped up by cushions and pillows. His sole 
auditors were Mrs. Weekhart, who sat beside him, 
with a look of gentle solicitude, and the colored Jehu, 
who handled the reins. Waco lay just behind them; 
its excited meetings, its hospitable dinners, its full 
collections, its sober ministers, and earnest people, 
its Free United Reformed Catholic Church Protest- 
ant of Simple Believers, its annoying controversies, 
and unpleasant suspicions, all were things of the past. 
Before them lay a smooth road, and a lovely summer 
day, and a great untried future of infinite possibilities. 

Mr. Blow was happy — evidently so. His posture, 
comfortably reclining in soft ease, declared it; his 

172 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


173 


smoothly shaven face at every curve and angle 
declared it; his pale blue eyes, beaming joyously 
through the gold-rimmed glasses across his nose, de- 
clared it. Even his sandy hair, blowing in the gentle 
breeze over the snowy pillow which Miss Oppenhaus 
had thoughtfully placed for his head, conspired to de- 
clare Mr. Blow’s perfect happiness. 

Mrs.Weekhart was also blissful in the radiation of 
his happiness. Her eyes were constantly upon his 
face and reflected faithfully every expression that ap- 
peared there. 

Ever and anon she bent toward him, saying: “I 
hope you are not wearied.” “Do you feel any better.?” 
“Can I arrange your pillows.?” And a hundred other 
expressions of anxious solicitude betrayed the sensa- 
tions of her heart. The only thing that troubled her 
was a feeling of restraint. She could have wished 
her faithful old Jehu in Halifax so she might have 
given free rein to her tender sentiments. But Mr. 
Blow had carefully cautioned her not to disclose their 
secret in any wa}^ — a wish on his part which she 
was determined to respect. The secret she would 
keep, though she had to get the assistance of every 
woman she met, as she had already obtained that of 
Mrs. and Miss Oppenhaus and several other ladies 
in Waco. 

So the day wore on. Mr. Blow soon discarded his 
cushions and pillows, to Mrs. Weekhart’s great un- 
easiness, and at noon made a hearty meal off the abun- 
dant “snack” which Mrs. Oppenhaus’s forethought had 
provided. 

Toward night they arrived at Belton, where resided 
some friends of Mrs. Weekhart’s, who welcomed 
them warmly, and made them comfortable in their 
luxurious home. Mr. Gettall had been a friend of 
Mrs. Weekhart’s father in years past. He was a 
small, elderly man with keen gray eyes, of little ed- 


174 


yfOrENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


ucation, but great shrewdness, who had amassed a 
large fortune in Belton. His wife was a woman 
young enough to be his daughter, tall, slender and 
graceful, of high education, and a deeply religious 
disposition. The rest of the family consisted of a 
daughter, a plain-faced, weak-minded young lady of 
gushing manners, the fruit of a former marriage, and 
several younger children. 

When Mrs. Weekhart had introduced Mr. Blow, 
expatiated upon his wonderful abilities and exalted 
his religious position, she dwelt upon his feeble health 
and her own anxiety concerning it, and moreover pri- 
vately confide^d to Mrs. Gettall the relations that ex- 
isted between him and herself. The family assigned 
him at once a lofty place in their regard and venera- 
tion, and besieged him with solicitations to remain and 
rest with them until his health should be fully restored. 
Among other inducements, they represented that a 
camp-meeting was in progress not far from town, at 
which was assembled a great multitude, and that he 
might do very great good by visiting it. 

Mr. Blow had never before in his life been domi- 
ciled in so luxurious and elegant a home, and required 
but little pressing to consent to pass some time amidst 
these unusual comforts. 

He found no reason to regret his resolution. Mr. 
Gettall was affable even to obsequiousness, Mrs. 
Gettall was kind and attentive to his comforts and 
enjoyments, and Miss Gettall devoted herself to his 
entertainment to a degree that moved the jealousy of 
Mrs. Weekhart. The days were spent in a round 
of feasting, driving, entertaining company and being 
entertained, to Mr. Blow’s infinite satisfaction. Not 
long after their arrival Miss Gettall confided to Mr. 
Blow that her father, though in her estimation a good 
and upright man, with as few faults as the generality 
of mankind, was not a Christian, and she begged him 


j4DyEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


175 


to use his influence toward his cgnversion. Mr. Blow 
promised to do what he could in that direction and 
watched for an opportunity to speak to Mr. Gettall 
on the subject of religion. Shortly after, Mr. Gettall 
invited Mr. Blow to drive out with him and look over 
a farm which he owned in the neighborhood. 

On the road, they passed a negro laborer, and Mr. 
Gettall remarked: 

“A nasty animal, that.” 

‘‘What.?” asked Mr. Blow. 

“The nigger,” said Mr. Gettall. “Don’t you think, 
sir, that it is wicked to preach the gospel to nig- 
gers.?” 

“Why, no, I cannot say that I do. Why should it 
be.?” 

“Why.? They are merely beasts, and the filthiest of 
all beasts. A nigger has no soul. I believe that the 
only sin for which God punishes men is amalgama- 
tion with the black race. Every nation that is at all 
mixed up with that blood is under a curse and is dy- 
ing out. A nigger can’t be saved, and to preach the 
gospel to them is, in my opinion, wicked.” 

“I never heard such opinions advanced before,” 
responded Mr. Blow with an air of astonishment. “ I 
think a negro has a soul, and can be saved as well as 
a white man.” 

“No, sir, you are mistaken. The nigger is the curse 
of the world. He is not human. He has not the 
prime instincts of a human being. If the Bible were 
properly translated everybody would hold what I say 
here, to be the truth. It was a nigger that tempted 
Eve in the garden of Eden. The Bible says serpent; 
but in Hebrew the same word means serpent and devil 
and nigger. The nigger never descended from Adam. 
He was the father of white men, and the sin for 
which the flood came was the amalgamation of the 
whites with the blacks. Noah was a white man, but 


176 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


he lived among mulattoes, and he and his white chil- 
dren were the only ones that God saved.” 

‘‘But where did the negroes come from after the 
flood.?” 

“O! the flood didn’t drown any but mulattoes. It 
only came over part of the world where the white 
race had mixed with the aborigines.” 

“Don’t you believe that Adam was the first man 
and the father of all the human race.?” 

“Yes, perhaps so. But the nigger is not a man; 
he’s only an animal. It is no more sin to kill a nig- 
ger than to kill a dog. They are nastier than dogs.” 

“I am afraid, Mr. Gettall, that your opinion is 
merely the prejudice of your Southern blood. You 
have been used to owning them as slaves, perhaps, 
and hence feel so toward them — ” 

“No, I never owned one in my life and never would. 
I am not a Southern man, I was born in Connecti- 
cut. I don’t want to be thought a Southern man, for 
they have associated with niggers so long that there’s 
some nigger in the most of them. They believe he 
has a soul. They preach to him and try to treat him 
as a human, and I believe that is the reason that 
God has cursed this country.” 

“Do you not associate with the negroes at all.?” 

“No, sir, I would as lief associate with apes.” 

“But I saw some in your store this morning. 

“O yes, I take their money. White men have a 
right to use the earth and everything in it, niggers in- 
cluded. Half the niggers in this country owe me money, 
and I would rather have them owe me than white 
men for they are not sharp enough to cheat me.” 

Here Mr. Gettall .drew rein in front of a miserable 
little cabin of logs that stood by the roadside, in front 
of which an old negro was busily engaged in repairing 
a dilapidated agricultural implement. 

“Hallo! Sam,” he said. The old negro looked up, 


ADyEhITURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


177 


and doffing his hat approached the buggy with a low 
bow. 

“Good ebenin’, Massa Gettall, I hopes you’s well 
and you fam’ly.” 

“How much cotton have you got picked, Sam.?” 

“Well, massa, de wooms is mighty bad on ole Sam 
dis year, an’ I’se bin sick a heap. I han’t got out 
more ’n two bale. I reckon I kin git two mo’ p’r’aps 
’fore de season’s ober.” 

“Have you made any corn.?” 

“Well, massa, you see de fence wus so bad dat de 
stock got in my corn and eat it pretty much all up. 
I don’t ’blieve da’s ’nuff to bread me.” 

“Look here, Sam, I want you to rerhember that you 
owe me three bales of cotton yet on last year, and 
three more on this — and you have got them to pay. I 
won’t have any more of your nonsense. You bring 
your cotton and corn right in, every bit of it, and I 
will take that brown mule for the balance.” 

“Lor’, massa, how kin Sam feed his pickaninnies 
widout de corn and make a crop widout demule.? Be 
easy on me, massa, an I’ll pay it all, ebery cent.” 

“I’ve been too easy with you! You lying black 
scoundrel! You think you can lie around and do 
nothing and live off of me. If you don’t bring the cot- 
ton and corn and the mule too. I’ll sue you, and then 
you will have big costs to pay beside. Do you hear.?” 

“Yes, massa, I’se gwine to bring ’em. I reckon de 
Lord ’ll take keer o’ de pickaninnies an ole Sam, an’ 
I hope he’ll be mo’ mussiful in de day of jedgment 
to you dan you is to po’ Sam.” 

The buggy drove on. and old Sam returned to his 
work singing in a doleful way to himself. The only 
words of the song that reached the ears of the occu- 
pants of the buggy were — 

“Judgment, judgment, 

Judgment-day am coming ’round.” 


Adventures 12 


178 ADVEhlTURES OF E^AhlGELIST 

“Listen to the old hypocrite,” said Mr. Gettall. “Do 
you think he is human?” 

“I fear, Mr. Gettall, that you do not fear God,” 
said the evangelist solemnly. 

“No,” said Mr. Gettall in a light tone, “I don’t 
know that I do particularly. Why should I ?” 

“Don’t you think that you were rather hard on the 
old darkey?” 

“Not a bit! He owes me the money. You don’t 
think it wrong for a man to claim his own?” 

“Well, I suppose not.” 

“Of course not! This black thief has been in debt 
to me for the last four years. I have been advancing 
his supplies and only charging him two and a half per 
cent a month. And I would have no objection to let- 
ting it go on now, except that he is getting too old 
and infirm. And if he should die I would lose it all. 
He has no property of any account except one 
mule.” 

Mr. Blow changed the subject abruptly, saying: 

“Have you ever thought of the subject of personal 
religion?” 

“Yes, I have thought of it, and have come to the 
conclusion (pardon the expression) that it’s all con- 
founded nonsense. I regard religion as composed in 
equal parts of knavery, hypocrisy and superstition. 
I am rather blunt, but you asked my opinion, and 
you have got it.” 

“How do you expect to get to heaven without re- 
ligion ?” 

“I think a man’s life has a deal more to do with 
his getting to heaven than his religion. And I am as 
good as the average. That is a fine field of cotton 
over there. I judge that it will turn out over a bale 
to the acre.” 

The conversation turned on cotton and remained 
there until the drive was ended. 


ADyEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


179 


At the supper-table that night Mrs. Gettall re- 
marked that Judge Nolaw had come to town. 

“Indeed,” said Mr. Gettall, “I had not heard it. 
Court does not open till day-after-to-morrow.” 

“Who is Judge Nolaw asked Mr. Blow. 

“He is the new judge just appointed for this dis- 
trict. He has been a very prominent man at the 
bar, and was member of legislature for two terms. 
We must entertain him. ^ Wife, can’t you give him 
a reception to-morrow night and I will go around 
right after supper and call.” 

“But, papa,” put in Miss Gettall, “we don’t 
know him. What is the use of going to so much 
trouble.? We proposed visiting the camp-meeting to- 
morrow.” 

“Well, you can put off your trip. I think the camp- 
meeting will survive. The judge is somebody, and 
we must entertain him properly.” 

“Would he give you a reception, papa,” asked one 
of the smaller children, “if you went to Austin.?” 

“Be silent, sir! Children should be seen and not 
heard. Mrs. Gettall, you will get out your invita- 
tions in the morning. It must come oif before the 
judge is busy in court.” 

The trip to the camp-meeting was thus postponed, 
and the reception took place. 

When Mr. Blow, with Mrs. Weekhart (arrayed in 
some garments borrowed for the occasion from Mrs. 
Gettall) on his arm, came down stairs, the festiv- 
ities were well begun. The spacious arid richly fur- 
nished parlors were a blaze of light, and beautifully 
decorated with flowers arranged by Mrs. Gettall’s 
tasteful hand; and the assembled guests, under her 
skillful management, were all at ease and enjoying 
themselves. In the center of the front parlor stood 
fudge Nolaw, a tall, fleshy, animal-faced individual, 
with an elepha'ntine strut and a sour, surly expres- 


m ADVEI^TURES OF AN EyANGELIST 

sion of countenance, and close to his elbow stood the 
host with his wizened, gray-bearded face expanded 
into what he considered an amiable smile, obsequiously 
devouring the great man’s commonplaces, laughing at 
his stale jokes, and assenting blindly to his opinions. 

Mr. Blow was presented to the judge by Mrs. Get- 
tall as “the great evangelist.” 

The judge looked him over deliberately, and pro- 
nounced himself glad to see him. 

Mr. Blow was pleased with having the honor of his 
acquaintance. 

“Mr. Blow is one of our greatest divines, judge,” 
said Mr. Gettall. “He is staying a few days with me, 
at my request, on his way to conduct a revival at 
Austin. And I am proud to have been the means of 
bringing you together.” 

“I regret,” said the judge, “that I have not had the 
pleasure of meeting you before, sir. I hope I shall 
have the honor of seeing you in Austin on my return. 
Mr. Smith, (to a gentleman standing by) did you 
see old man Racer’s Billy run at the last state fair.?” 

“No, sir,” answered Mr. Smith, “I was not on the 
track that day.” 

“That’s one of the finest horses in Texas,” re- 
marked the judge. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Gettall. “Did you know I used to 
own that horse.? I bought him from a negro down on 
the creek here for twenty dollars and sold him to 
Racer not long afterward for three hundred. He’s' a 
fine horse.” 

“I heard,” said Mr. Smith, “that Racer refused a 
thousand for him at the fair.” 

Mr. Blow turned away, and was introduced by Mrs. 
Gettall to the rest of the company. 

“I think I’ll sit on the porch, gentlemen, and take 
a smoke. The flowers smell too strong for me in 
here. I don’t see why people will fill their houses full 
of weeds.” This from the judge. 


ADVEl^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


181 


“Yes,” said Mr. Gettall, “I agree with you, I have 
often told my wife so. But she has a foolish idea 
about flowers. Take a cigar,” and Mr. Gettall pro- 
duced some fine havanas. 

“What an elegant gentleman the new judge is,” 
remarked Miss Gettall to a young gentleman, watch- 
ing that ponderous individual as he disappeared out 
of the door. “He has such a commanding presence!” 

“Do you know,” asked one of the guests of an- 
other, “whether the evangelist will preach for us Sun- 
day I should like to hear him, but I must say he 
does not look like much of a preacher.” 

“Do you think so.?” responded the other, a young 
lady of uncertain age and very juvenile costume, “I 
don’t agree with you at all. He looks just like my 
idea of a saint. He has such a mild, wise, tender 
expression. I don’t know whether he will preach or 
not. They say he is quite unwell. Call Mrs. Get- 
tall and ask her.” 

Mrs. Weekhart was the topic of conversation, in a 
group of young ladies in the corner — “Is that lady 
with Mr. Blow his wife.?” 

“No, I understand she is his sister-in-law or some- 
thing. He lost his wife not long ago, and was so cut 
up by it that he has been sick ever since.” 

“Poor man,” said No. 3, “how ill he looks!” 

“But,” exclaimed No. 4, “Miss Jane told me that 
she believes Mr. Blow is engaged to Mrs. Weekhart, 
and that they will be married.” 

“I don’t believe it!” said No. 2. “I don’t see any- 
thing about her that he could fall in love with. How 
shocking to think of an evangelist being in love ! Just 
see what a foolish simper she has. She is not fit to 
marry him. It can’t be true.” 

Said No. i: “Isn’t that dress she has on for all 
the world just like Mrs. Gettall’ s black silk with 
bugles.? I believe it is the very same.” 


182 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


A young gentleman in full dress and a budding 
mustache approached Mrs. Weekhart. “Madam, 
we understand that you are a great singer. Would 
you oblige the company with a specimen of your 
extraordinary vocal accomplishments.? It will give 
me extreme pleasure to conduct you to the piano.” 
Mrs. Weekhart hesitated. She would rather be ex- 
cused. She sang nothing but sacred music. 

The young gentleman appealed to Mrs. Gettall. 
“Please, madam, exert ypur compelling potency to 
procure us a melodious strain of harmony from this 
lovely prima-donna. My poor efforts of persuasion 
are completely inefficient.” 

“Certainly,” said Mrs. Gettall, “I am sure that Mrs. 
Weekhart will consent to sing for my guests. Do al- 
low Mr. Jackanapes to lead you to the piano.” 

Mrs. Weekhart consented, and was led to the 
piano with an immense flourish on the part of the 
gentleman. She sang “The Life-boat” with an effect 
that would have been really fine if Mr. Jackanapes, 
whose sense of musical time and tune was absolutely 
latent, had not endeavored to sing the tenor. 

When the song was finished Mrs. Weekhart 
glanced round the parlors and perceived that Mr. 
Blow was missing. 

She refused to sing again, though solicited by many 
to do so, and declaring that she was very warm re- 
quested Mr. Jackanapes to lead her out upon the ve- 
randa. Mr. Jackanapes at once perceived that she 
was smitten by his perfections, and offering his arm 
whispered something about the delight of serving so 
paradisiacal a beauty and so heavenly a singer with 
a life-time of servile attentions. When they reached 
the veranda Mrs. Weekhart discovered Mr. Blow in 
the act of promenading with Miss Gettall on one arm 
and a loudly-dressed young widow on the other, which 
sight so affected her that drawing her hand from Mr. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


183 


Jackanapes’ arm, and without a word of excuse, to 
his infinite disgust, she hurried to her room — which 
no persuasion could induce her to leave for the rest of 
the evening, and where she sobbed herself to sleep 
long after the guests were dispersed. 

Her absence was almost wholly unnoticed by Mr. 
Blow, who was enjoying himself immensely. 

The entertainment was broken up rather earlier 
than the host had anticipated by the honorable judge 
who, after having partaken freely of the elegant re- 
freshments spread by Mrs. Gettall, at once seized his 
hat, and said: “Well, good night, Gettall, Fm sleepy. 
I always go to bed early, and parties bore me, any- 
way.” 

“Goodnight, judge,” said Mr. Gettall, shaking his 
hand heartily, “I am sorry to have you leave so soon. 
I feel very much honored by your presence in my 
house, and shall be glad to have you regard it as al- 
ways open to you and yours. Won’t you light a cigar 
before you go.^ If you will wait a moment I will have 
a carriage at the door at your disposal.” 

“Well, I will take a cigar,” suiting the action to the 
word, and taking three or four from the box which 
Mr. Gettall extended; “But I’ll walk to the hotel, 
my feed settles better after a walk.” And the judge 
put on his hat in the parlor, lit a cigar, and without 
another word took his departure. 

Mr. Gettall soon retired to his room, and several of 
the older guests went home. 

“I hope, Mrs. Gettall,” said Mr. Jackanapes, “that 
the presence of this illustrious divine will not pre- 
vent a little terpsichorean amusement. May the 
light fantastic toe chase some gloomy hours away.?” 

“I should not like to have any dancing until we 
find out whether Mr. Blow disapproves of it.” 

“I will obtain the ministerial sanction,” said Mr. 
Jackanapes, and approaching the sofa where the 


184 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


evangelist, reclining at ease amidst a bevy of ladies, 
was recovering slowly from the fatigues of the table, 
he said: 

“The assembled beauty and chivalry of Belton beg 
the favorable consideration of the grave and reverend 
evangelist, for their humble petition to be allowed to 
divert their youthful spirits by an act of homage to 
Terpsichore.” 

Mr. Blow looked at him a moment in bewilderment, 
and then said: “Excuse me, sir, but you observed 
that — ” 

“He wanted you to let us dance,” interrupted one 
of the young ladies with a laugh. 

“Oh! as to that I have nothing to say. Ask Mrs. 
Gettall,” said Mr. Blow. 

“But she won’t let us do it,” said the young lady, 
“if you object to dancing.” 

“Well,” he said, “I dislike to express an opinion that 
may be disagreeable, I do not know that the mere act 
of dancing is sinful — but it is worldly, and of the 
flesh. We must draw a line somewhere between 
things allowable and worldly indulgence. And I be- 
lieve that the most respectable authorities draw it at 
dancing and card-playing, I do not dance myself. I 
should esteem it wrong. But I shall be sorry to have 
my opinions interfere with your amusements. If the 
company desires to dance I will retire.” 

Mr. Blow half rose to a sitting posture, and 
beamed an inquiring smile upon the ladies round him. 

The ladies protested that they would willingly 
sacrifice the amusement rather than lose his com- 
pany. So Mr. Blow resumed his recumbent position 
and launched out into a dissertation upon the nature 
of Christian self-denial, which lasted until the com- 
pany dispersed. 


CHAPTER XV 


WHICH RELATES HOW THE GREAT EVANGELIST AT- 
TENDED camp-meeting; what he saw there; 

AND WHAT HE THOUGHT ABOUT IT 

The next morning after the reception Mr. Gettall 
was not in the best possible humor, refused to allow 
his carriage and horses to go to the camp-meeting on 
the ground that the carriage was out of order, and at 
the breakfast-table, in spite of Mr. Blow's presence, 
indulged in various sneering remarks about camp- 
meetings, and religion in general, to the no little dis- 
comfort of his wife. After he had gone to his busi- 
ness it was arranged that Mrs. and Miss Gettall should 
go with Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart, in the latter’s 
carriage, returning early in the evening — which ar- 
rangement was speedily carried into effect. 

The camp-ground was in a “bottom” on the banks 
of a creek, about five miles from town. Here a large 
arbor, made of poles and branches, supported by tall, 
forked stakes, and supplied with benches of the rud- 
est description, formed of logs and rough planks, had 
been erected for the accommodation of the religious 
services; and at convenient distances around were 
booths and tents for the shelter of the worshipers. 

The grounds were thronged with people and, but 
for the presence of so many women and children, 
might easily have been mistaken for a bivouac of 
troops. Our visitors arrived in the interim between 
the earlier and. the later services of the morning; yet 
althouerh no stated service was in progress, some hun- 
185 


186 


y^DFENTURES OF y4N EF^NGELIST 


dred or more persons were assembled in the cen- 
tral arbor, engaged in singing hymns. 

There were some six or seven preachers on the 
ground of almost as many different denominations, to 
the most of whom Mrs. Gettall and her step-daughter 
were well known. Some of them came out to receive 
the visitors, and upon being introduced to Mr. Blow, 
they welcomed him most warmly. They had heard 
the fame of his operations; they were proud to meet 
him; they hpped that he would stay with them, and 
share in the labors of the blessed work that was in 
progress. Great good was being done; a large num- 
ber of conversions had occurred already; and there 
was a reasonable prospect of many more. 

Mr. Blow felt delighted to be with them and would 
gladly be of service, but his health was precarious, 
and his engagements pressing, so that he could not 
promise to stay longer than one day. 

A gentleman here came up and tendered the hospi- 
tality of his camp to the visitors. It was accepted, 
and though it was yet early, they were soon seated 
at a repast, which if not exactly elegant, was certainly 
good and abundant. 

After eating, they repaired to the central arbor, 
whither all the assembly soon came flocking, and 
filled it to its utmost capacity. 

Mr. Blow was honored with a seat on the bench 
behind the rustic pulpit, and distinguished by an in- 
vitation to make the “long prayer,” which duty he 
discharged to the great and enthusiastically mani- 
fested satisfaction of the congregation, who kept up 
an almost continuous series of responses and ejacula- 
tions from the beginning to the end. 

The preacher, a gaunt, tall person, with tow-col- 
ored hair and a weather-beaten face, took for his text 
the words from the Prophet Ezekiel’s vision of the 
valley of dry bones: “And behold they were very dry,” 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


187 


from which he preached an excellent and powerful, 
though rather incoherent, discourse upon the hopeless 
condition of souls deprived of the life of God — the 
delivery of which occupied an hour and three-quar- 
ters. The congregation listened attentively and with 
decorum to the end, and there was little manifesta- 
tion of the intense excitement to which Mr. Blow 
was accustomed, and which he expected to see. After 
the sermon the congregation adjourned to dinner. 

As our party was seated around the well-supplied 
board of their host Mrs. Weekhart remarked: 

“There did not seem to be much manifestation of 
the Spirit at the preaching. When Mr. Blow preaches 
there is always a powerful moving.” 

“You see,” answered the host, “we don’t expect 
much visible result from the day services. They are 
intended more for the strengthening of the godly. 
The night service is the one for sinners. You will see 
then how they will be stirred.” 

“I have always found,” said Mr. Blow, “that the 
night is most favorable for producing those religious 
manifestations that result in most good. My day- 
light efforts have always been most unsatisfactory. 
Even on Sunday morning it is almost impossible to 
create a feeling that brings out converts.” 

“But,” said Mrs. Gettall, “it seems to me that our 
Savior always preached by daylight; I don’t remem- 
ber having read that he ever preached at night.” 

“That may be true,” answered Mr. Blow; “but 
since his time methods' have been improved. Expe- 
rience has made us wiser. I have no doubt that had 
he preached at night he would have accomplished 
much more than he did. He made very few con- 
verts.” 

An awkward silence followed this speech. No 
one seemed desirous to answer it, or continue the 
subject. The silence was at last broken by Miss Get- 
tall, who observed: 


188 


/tDt^ENTURES OF AN EFANGELlSf 


“I wonder, Mr. Feeder, how you manage to set so 
good a table out here in the woods.” 

“Oh, provisions are plenty, such as they are.” 

“I am sure everything is very excellent,” said Mrs. 
Weekhart, “but we have had hardly time to get hun- 
gry since eating.” 

“We don’t intend,” he responded, “to let anybody 
be hungry here if we can help it.” 

“How many meals a day do you have in camp.?” 
asked Miss Gettall. 

“We have four regular meals, besides coffee in the 
morning and a warm snack after the late preaching; 
and we find them few enough.” 

“Living so in the open air gives us all such appe- 
tites, you see,” explained Mrs. Feeder, helping her- 
self to a large piece of ham. 

“Do you not find eating so often to interfere with 
the devotional exercises.?” asked Mrs. Gettall. 

“Well, no,” responded Mr. Feeder. “Have a little 
more turkey, Mr. Blow.? Some of the preachers say 
that they can’t preach so well after a hearty meal. 
That’s the reason we have a warm supper after the 
late service. But others say that that is all imagin- 
ary. I think now that a man needs some support to 
go through such violent exercise. When a man is 
empty he is weak and thin, and his preaching is like- 
ly to be so too. I think our best preachers are the 
best eaters.” 

“I entirely agree with you,” said Mr. Blow. “To 
do good work the system must be in good order. I 
always like to eat about an hour and a half before 
preaching, and am very hungry immediately after- 
ward.” 

“It seems to me,” ventured Mrs. Gettall, “that .the 
Bible joins praying and fasting together, as though 
one prayed better when fasting.” 

“That is a wholly Roman Catholic doctrine,” said 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


189 


Mr. Blow magisterially, “and tends to superstition 
and fanaticism. It stands upon the false foundation 
of works. We are not justified by works, but by 
faith, and men grasp faith better when they are full. 
Hunger is the father of doubts and idle self-question- 
ings.” 

“But why does the Bible say ‘Fast and pray,’ if 
fasting is not good.?” persisted Mrs. Gettall. 

“When the Bible speaks of fasting,” said Mr. Blow, 
with an air of condescending explanation, “it must al- 
ways be understood in a spiritual sense. Fasting 
there means abstinence from sin, and not abstinence 
from food. Now we are told that Christ fasted forty 
days and forty nights. If we understand that dur- 
ing that time he ate nothing, we are plainly wrong, 
for no man can live so long without food. It must 
be taken in a spiritual sense.” 

At this point, the conversation was interrupted by 
the entrance of one of the ministers, who, being wel- 
comed and seated at the table, said: 

“Brother Blow, I was appointed to preach the dis- 
course to-night, but as I find that the people are very 
anxious to hear you, I shall gladly give way, and let 
you preach.” 

“Thank you,” said Mr. Blow, “but I am entirely 
unprepared. I had not anticipated taking any part in 
the meeting.” 

“Surely,” said Mr. Feeder, “so great a preacher 
as Mr. Blow is always prepared.” 

“Of course he is,” said Mrs. Weekhart. “He can 
deliver a beautiful sermon at any time without a 
moment’s preparation.” 

“I hope, Mr. Blow,” pleaded Miss Gettall, “that 
you will allow us to enjoy your eloquence. We have 
heard so much of you that we are dying to listen to 
your preaching. I know that half of Belton will be 
here to-night on purpose.” 


190 


ADl^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“I should be sorry to disappoint anybody,” said 
Mr. Blow, “but my health is so delicate at present 
that — ” 

“Now do preach, Mr. Blow,” said Mrs. Feeder. 

“We shall be very much disappointed if you do 
not,” said Mr. Feeder. 

“I hope Mr. Blow won’t refuse,” said Mrs. Gettall. 

“Well,” said Mr. Blow, so beset, “I think I might 
consent to preach if the brethren are willing to have 
me take up a collection for — for a missionary enter- 
prise that I am interested in — ” 

The minister looked serious, at this proposal, and 
said that it would be necessary to consult the breth- 
ren about it. It was contrary to the rules of the 
camp-ground to take up a collection for any purpose 
other than the necessary expenses, but in Brother 
Blow’s behalf, they might be willing to set this rule 
aside. The dinner finished, he went off to consult 
about the matter, and presently returned and re- 
ported that, though it pained him to say so, the rule 
must be enforced. Yet they would be sadly disap- 
pointed if Brother Blow declined preaching. 

Mr. Blow appeared offended and absolutely declined 
to say a word. But finally, yielding to the solicitations 
of Mrs. and especially Miss Gettall, and the bland- 
ishments of Mrs. Weekhart, he promised to preach. 

At three o’clock, all repaired to the arbor for pray- 
ers, singing and exhortation — exercises that lasted 
some two hours and-a-half. 

During this time, Mr. Blow’s attention was ar- 
rested by a comely young lady who lay near the front 
of the pulpit on a pile of straw in all the rigidity of 
death. She was pale as a corpse, even to, her lips; 
her limbs were set and stiff and the only signs of life 
about her were a scarcely perceptible breath and the 
faintest possible pulse. Mr. Blow watched her with 
great curiosity, and after the services asked what it 


ADVEhfTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


191 


meant, and why she lay there. One of the by-stand- 
ers told him that she was in a trance — that she had' 
“gone off” at one of the night services, and had lain 
so without food or drink for two days and nights; and 
that they were all anxious for her to come back, for 
she would probably bring them some news from 
the other world. 

“When will she probably come back.?” asked Mr. 
Blow eagerly. 

“Well, we can’t tell; sometimes she stays several 
days, and sometimes only a few hours.” 

“Why don’t you try to arouse her.? Give her some 
restorative.?” 

“Because it would be wicked to call her soul out 
of bliss. God has taken her to show her some of the 
heavenly glories.” 

Mr. Blow went away with Mr. Feeder and his com- 
panions to a supper fully as substantial as the din- 
ner had been, but he was so interested in the young 
lady in the trance that he could talk of nothing else. 

After supper, at early candle-light, all returned to 
the arbor, where, after rather lengthy preliminary 
exercises, Mr. Blow preached on “A Visit to Cal- 
vary,” with tremendous effect. Never, in all his ex- 
perience, had he seen such excitement. All his pre- 
vious services were tame in comparison. It required 
all his vocal power — and he had not a little — to make 
himself heard by those immediately around him. 
Scarcely was he seated and wiping the dripping per- 
spiration from his brow, when a burly figure marched 
up into the pulpit, and laying aside his coat, said: 
“My brethren, I come pretty nigh not getting^here in 
time; but now I’m come, let me say a few words of 
exhortation. This yoiing gentleman has preached 
to us with great power, and every word he’s said’s 
true as gospel.” And beginning Mr. Blow’s ser- 
mon again he repeated the whole of it in substance. 


192 


ADyENTURES OF AN EFANGELIST 


Mr. Blow was aghast. The speaker was unmistak- 
able. The immense figure in his shirt-sleeves, the 
wood-chopping gestures, and above all the clarion 
voice with its peculiar drawl and melancholy cadence 
were inimitable. It was — it could be — none other 
than — Dr. Holiton; but there was no escape, and Mr. 
Blow was forced to sit still, and hear his sermon re- 
peated, with much less elegance but greater effect 
than he had given it. 

At the conclusion of Dr. Holiton’s effort the scene 
in the arbor beggared description. Some were laugh- 
ing, some were weeping, some screaming at the top 
of their voices, some jumping up and down, some 
rolling on the ground. All was in the wildest up- 
roar. 

One old man, a preacher, was marching back and 
forth before the pulpit with his arm and forefinger 
extended, singing in a monotonous whine: 

“I wish my finger was a gun, 

To shoot the devil as he run!” 

which words he repeated over and over with 
added force at each repetition. 

Mrs. Feeder, seated on one of the front benches, 
was reclining on her husband’s shoulder and laughing 
most heartily. There was no intermittent paroxysm 
to the laugh, but one continuous and loud cachina- 
tion. 

Mr. Blow looked at the promenading and singing 
minister a moment in disgust, and then his eye fell on 
Mrs. Feeder. He was annoyed — she had noticed how 
Dr. HoJiton had mocked him, and was amused at it. 
Stepping down from the pulpit he went to her and 
remarked in a severe tone: 

“Mrs. Feeder, madam, lam astonished at your be- 
havior. I supposed that you were too good a Chris- 
tian to indulge in this unseemly levity on so solemn 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


193 


an occasion as this. Restrain your laughter, madam, 
until a more seasonable time.” 

The lady made him no answer, but looking full in 
his face with a vacant expression, but an appearance 
of intense amusement, quietly continued laughing. 

“I see^ Mr. Blow,” said her husband, “that you are 
mistaken. This is the work of the Spirit, and is 
called the Holy Laugh. It is very seldom that my 
wife is so moved. I recollect once when she was 
quite young she had the Holy Laugh. But your 
lovely sermon brought the Spirit to her. I should 
have shouted myself, I believe, but for my anxiety to 
protect her.” 

“Indeed, sir, I beg your pardon,” said Mr. Blow, 
“I did not know that the Spirit manifested itself in 
this manner — I- ” 

The remark was broken short by a buxom young 
lady of some twenty summers, who rushed at Mr. 
Blow, and throwing her powerful arms around him, 
said, or rather screamed: 

“O! thank God for you, dear Brother Blow! Thank 
God for you. Oh! Ah! You have brought peace and 
bliss to my soul. I have felt the warm touch of Di- 
vine Love! lam saved! Yes, lam saved! And I must 
give the kiss of peace to all God’s people, and espe- 
cially to my savior!” 

It was no use for Mr. Blow to struggle. She was 
as strong as a giantess and held his arms pinioned to 
his side while she covered his face with kisses. In 
the struggle his eye-glasses were knocked off and 
broken. Presently she released him and made a simi- 
lar attack upon the aged gentleman who was fervently 
praying to have his finger converted into a spiritual 
firearm. 

Just at the right of Mr. Blow at this juncture was 
a man of middle age undergoing a genuine attack of 
the experience called shouting. With both hands 

Adventures 13 


194 


ADyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


he held fast to one of the stakes which supported the 
arbor, and was jumping upward as high as he 
could — at each jump shouting, “O, Glory!” “O, 
Glory!” at the top of his voice. 

As Mr. Blow staggered aside from the force with 
which he was released by the young lady he came 
into violent contact with this figure, and was precipi- 
tated headlong over two persons — a young man and 
a young woman — who were kneeling upon the ground 
close by, with their hands clasped in each other’s, en- 
gaged in vociferous devotion — one singing a doggerel 
hymn and the other praying. Mr. Blow’s weight 
brought them both to the ground, where all three lay 
writhing for some moments — the young man, appar- 
ently in an ecstasy, continuing his prayer, the young 
woman groaning with pain, and Mr. Blow struggling 
ineffectually to regain his feet. Presently Mr. Feed- 
er came to the rescue, and lifted him up, inquiring 
anxiously whether he were hurt. 

Mr. Blow, after carefully feeling his limbs and ribs, 
pronounced himself all right, and proceeded as care- 
fully as possible to extricate himself from the excited 
mass of humanity, and join Mrs. Weekhart, who, with 
Mrs. and Miss Gettall, was standing at the edge of 
the arbor. 

As he came up to them, Mrs. Gettall said, “Did 
ever you see such a sight as this, Mr. Blow!” 

“O isn’t it glorious!” exclaimed Mrs. Weekhart. “I 
never before saw so powerful a manifestation of the 
Spirit.” 

“You certainly cannot suppose that the Spirit 
has aught to do with this uproar,” said Mrs. Gettall, 
with some indignation. 

“Certainly it has,” rejoined Mrs. Weekhart, with 
great warmth. “You think so, don’t you, Mr. Blow.?” 

“Well,” answered Mr. Blow, cautiously, and feel- 
ing his side to be sure that his ribs were whole, “ I 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


195 


should be loath to deny it altogether. There seems 
to be some little confusion running; but no reasonable 
man can suppose that people would indulge in ac- 
tions so apparently ridiculous unless moved to it by 
some irresistible power. Moreover, we have script- 
ural examples of just such manifestations as this. The 
Day of Pentecost, for instance — when the Spirit was 
first poured out — undoubtedly witnessed a scene 
very similar to this. See how these speak with other 
tongues. There is a man (pointing to a person 
near them who was kneeling on the ground, and 
swaying backward and forward, and shouting “Hal- 
lelujah! Hallelujah!”) who, as I am told, has been a 
notorious sinner. The words of praise that are in his 
mouth are surely ‘another tongue’ to him.” 

“How can you,” exclaimed Mrs. Gettall, “how dare 
you, liken that holy occasion to such an orgy as this.?” 

“I fear, madam,” said Mr. Blow solemnly, 
“that you have not tried to prepare your heart to 
receive the blessed influence of this hallowed hour. 
Let us all kneel down and beg the Lord to let some 
droppings of his blessings fall on us.” 

Mr. Blow kneeled, and began to pray, and his ex- 
ample was followed by Mrs. Weekhart and Miss Get- 
tall, but Mrs. Gettall remained standing, and remarked 
that she thought it was time for them to return 
home. 

Mr. Blow’s prayer was presently interrupted by a 
loud shout, which was re-echoed by a dozen voices 
in different parts of the arbor: “Hush! hush! Sallie’s 
come back! Sallie’s come back!” This announcement 
was followed by a tolerable degree of quiet through- 
out the assembly, broken only by a few who were too 
far gone in their religious excitement to have any 
consciousness of what was happening around them. 
Mr. Blow ended his prayer abruptly, and rising has- 
tened toward the pulpit, followed by Mrs. Week- 


196 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


hart. He found the young lady who had been in 
the trance, sitting up in the straw, and ejaculating: 

“O me! O glory! O heaven! Why couldn’t I stay.^ 
O me! Give me something to eat! O heaven!” She 
was surrounded by a group of excited women who 
were asking inabreath: “What did ycu see.?” “Where 
have you been.?” “Tell us about heaven!” “Did you 
see my John there.?” 

“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said; “only give me 
something to eat first. I’m nearly starved.” 

Some food and drink were brought, and while the 
returned one was ravenously satisfying her appetite, 
under the direction of one of the ministers, the 
shouting people who could not be quieted, including 
Mrs. Feeder and the man who had knocked Mr. 
Blow down,-, were removed, and order was restored. 

When the young lady had finished her meal, and 
drank several cups of strong coffee, she was seated 
upon the pulpit, and the crowd gathered close around 
her, while she spoke as may be found in the next 
chapter. 


CHAPTER XVI 


WHICH RELATES THE SURPRISING VISIONS SEEN BY THE 
YOUNG LADY WHO HAD THE TRANCE 

Miss Sallie, being seated upon the platform, and 
surrounded by the expectant crowd, as stated in the 
last chapter, spoke as follows: 

“I ain’t worthy to sit up here in this holy place 
where you have put me, and the things that my eyes 
have seen and my ears heard in the month that I’ve 
been gone from you, they was worthless to see and 
hear, and I am weak to tell. But since you all de- 
sire to hear them holy things, I can’t conceal the 
revelations of God. At the meeting about a month 
ago I was praying and shouting and an influence 
came over me — ” 

“Why, Sallie, it was only two days ago,” inter- 
rupted a voice from the crowd. 

“I tell you I’ve been gone a month, and I hoped I 
was going to stay always,” persisted Miss Sallie. 
“Ain’t it so, Mr. Rail.?” appealing to one of the 
ministers who stood by. 

“Well,” answered he, learnedly, “by earthly meas- 
urements your absence has continued but about forty- 
eight hours. But that may well be a month in the 
celestial chronology, for the Scripture tells us that a 
day with the Lord is as a thousand years. In heaven, 
no doubt time is measured by sensations and not by 
solar and terrestrial revolutions — ” 

“Yes,” continued Miss Sallie, “that’s just what the 
angel with the clock told me, for I asked him when I 
197 


108 


ADVEl^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


came out how long I’d been there. He said, ‘Mys- 
tery is incomprehensive, and terrestrial revolutions is 
not told here. You’ve been in heaven- a month.’” 

“Go on with the story,” cried an impatient femi- 
nine voice. 

Miss Sallie continued: “An influence come over me. 
It seemed as if I was going down, down, down. 
Then directly I heard a loud voice saying, ‘Get from 
here, and let her alone. ’ Then I opened my eyes and 
it was as dark as pitch and so cold; and I saw a black 
thing that looked something like a snake, and some- 
thing like a dog, and something like a man, with big 
yellow wings, and he smelt awful, sneaking off with 
his tail between his legs, and right by me stood a big 
white’ angel with a golden crown made out of stars 
and diamonds, and a big bowie knife in his hand. 
And he put his arm around me, and said, ‘That 
devil nearly got you that time, but don’t be afraid; 
I’m sent after you to bring you back. Come, let’s go. ’ 
Then we seemed to float right off in the dark, but it 
got lighter and lighter as we went along. We went 
so easy that I couldn’t tell whether we was walking 
or riding or flying, and I kind of dozed off in a nap, 
but directly he woke me up and said, ‘Look down.’ 
So I looked down, and I saw a wide, wide river, 
just as black as ink. And all along one bank was a 
black cloud. And lots of people was going into the 
cloud — old people and young people and little chil- 
dren. And the angel says, says he, ‘That’s Jordan’s 
stormy bank, and everybody has to go into that 
cloud and over that river. ’ Then'll looked to the other 
side and it was bright and lovely, and some people, 
not a great many, was climbing out of the river there, 
and everyone come out stark naked. And some angels 
there was waiting for them with white clothes all 
bright and pretty, and they kissed the people and 
dressed them up fine and carried them up to the top 


ylD^ENTURES OF /IN EVANGELIST 


199 


of a high hill where there was lots of chariots and 
horses of fire. And the big ones got into chariots 
and flew off up to heaven, but the little children the 
angels carried up in their arms. Then the angel says, 
‘That’s Canaan’s fair and happy land. You’ll have 
to go through the river of Jordan there some day. 
But I’m to take you by another road now. Come 
and let’s go over to the hill and take a carriage, for 
I’m mighty tired, you’re so heavy.’ Then I saw that 
he was carrying me, but I didn’t feel afraid, and he 
took me over to the hill. The angels there with the 
chariots none of them had on golden crowns like the one 
with me; they were all mighty respectful to him and 
took off their hats; and he picked out the best-look- 
ing chariot, and put me in it. I was afraid to get in 
at first, the flames looked so hot ; but he said they 
wouldn’t hurt me — and they didn’t either, for so I 
found out that they wasn’t real flames, but only 
make-believe for glory. Oh, they were so bright and 
pretty! He whipped up the horses and as we started 
I tried to see over the other side of the hill, but there 
was nothing there — just nothing at all. It was like 
the blank side of a wall, without any wall. And I 
asked the angel what was on the other side of that 
hill, and he said: Tt ain’t got any other side; that’s 
the end. ’ Well, we traveled so fast that we just left 
a string of fire in the air behind us like a rocket or 
a shooting-star. And I don’t think it was a quarter of 
an hour before we landed on a big porch that is in 
front of the door of heaven. Oh! it was such a pretty 
porch, all made of white and green and red stones, 
and the pillars was purple stones, and the top looked 
as if it was all curtained with pink silk, like the tes- 
ter of a bedstead. The porch was full of angels, all 
with spears and swords and shields, and every kind 
of weapons. And I asked the angel what that was 
for, and he said to keep bad angels and spirits away 


200 ADyEhITURES OF AN EyANGELIST 

from the door. The angel knocked on the door, and 
after a while it opened and an old man. with a long, 
long, white beard come out, and shut the door, and 
said something to me, but I could not understand 
him. ‘It’s Peter, ’ says the angel, ‘and he wants to 
know your name;’ so I told him my name and he be- 
gan to look in a big book he had under his arm. Di- 
rectly he said, ‘She looks likely, but I ain’t got no 
record of her; perhaps there’s some mistake. ’ ‘No,’ 

says the angel, ‘I reckon not. She ain’t come to 
stay yet; she only wants to look around a spell. I’ve 
got orders to fetch her.’ ‘Oh! that’s all right then,’ 
says Peter, ‘I’ll let her in, but she can’t stay long; ’ and 
he opened the door. Then the angel says to me, 
‘You can go in now, and ramble round awhile; and 
when you get tired come back; I’ll wait for you. You 
needn’t be in a hurry, for I ain’t got much to do just 
now. ’ 

“So I walked in, and just as I got inside I saw a 
great crowd of people come running to meet me, and 
they had on all white clothes, and gold crowns, and 
gold harps in their hands, and they’d run up close 
to me and look at me to see if they knowed me, 
and then walked away playing on their harps. I 
walked on a little way and was astonished to 
see that the road wasn’t gold at all, but a kind of 
white stone, and I couldn’t see no sun anywheres, 
or moon, but it was ten times as light as sun- 
shine. Directly one of the people said to me, ‘You 
look mighty curious, coming in here with a speckled 
calico on. Where’s your white robe.? You can’t get 
into the New Jerusalem in them clothes.’ Says I, 
‘Ain’t this the New Jerusalem.?’ ‘No,’ says he, ‘this 
is the country outside; yonder is the New Jerusalem 
up yonder. ’ ‘Where.?’ says I. ‘Up there, ’ says he. 
‘I don’t see it,’ says I. ‘You must have bad eye- 
sight,’ says he. ‘I don’t see anything,’ says I, ‘but 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 201 

an awful bright place. ’ ‘Well,’ says he, ‘that’s it. 
You can’t see it well until your eyes get used to it. 
But you’d better ask the angels there at the gate 
for a white robe, for you have to have one before you 
can go into the New Jerusalem. ’ 

“So I went back to the gate where there was a 
crowd of angels standing, and asked one of them if 
he could get me a white robe, but he only laughed 
and never said a word. Then I asked some of the 
others but they all just laughed. 

“By and by one of them that looked like a kind of 
boss, and had a great big silver clock under his arm, 
that he kept looking at, says he to me: ‘You can’t 
get no white robes here. You didn’t come to stay, 
and that’s the reason you didn’t get a robe.’ ‘Well,’ 
says I, ‘how can I get into the New Jerusalem.^’ ‘You 
can’t go there at all,’ says he, ‘and you’d better not 
try, if you know when you’re wise.’ Then I turned 
around and went back to the one I’d been talking to 
and told him what the angel said. ‘Well, ’ says he, 
‘never mind; let’s take a little walk. So we struck 
into a path that led down into a kind of hollow by a 
creek, with big trees on both sides, something like 
pecan trees. He tried to take hold of my hand to 
help me down the side of the hollow, but he coudn’t, 
and I couldn’t get hold of his; it was like as if there 
was a plate or something between us. ‘Well, ’ says he, 
Ht’s funny I can’t touch you.’ ‘I think so too,’ says 
I. Well, we went on talking until we come out into a 
kind of little prairie like, and. there was tables all 
around with nice victuals on them, and angels with 
aprons on standing to wait on the people that eat. 
We sat down at one table, but an angel come and 
said, that I couldn’t have anything to eat there be- 
cause I did not have a white robe on. So we got up 
and walked on to where a great crowd of people were 
sitting around on the ground, and he said, ‘Let’s sit 


202 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


down a while; there’s going to be a concert here di- 
rectly. ’ So we sat down and waited — ” 

“Didn’t you see anything of my John.^” here in- 
terrupted a shrill female voice. 

“Yes, I was just going to say, that while we was 
waiting who should come up but John Lankin. I’d 
have known him at once, though he is mighty changed; 
and he says, ‘Why, how do you do, Sallie.^* When 
did you come here.?’ ‘Just a bit ago,’ says I. ‘You 
don’t look as if you’d come to stay,’ says he. ‘No,’ 
says I, ‘I’m just on a visit.’ Says he, ‘How’s my 
wife.? I’ve been looking for her a long time, but I’m 
afraid she won’t never come.’ ‘Why not.?’ says I. 
‘Why,’ says he, ‘she’ll have to learn to do less jaw- 
ing if she ever gets here; the}^ don’t allow that sort 
of thing in this country. ’ ” 

An audible titter pervaded the crowd at this re- 
mark, and Mrs. Lankin, turning very red, muttered 
that she believed that Miss Sallie was just making up 
an outrageous lie, (an expression of opinion that was 
rebuked by cries of “Shame!” from everyone that 
heard it), and slipping out of the crowd departed. 

Miss Sallie continued her narrative: “After a 
while some music struck up. I couldn’t see where it 
came from, but oh, it was lovely. It .seemed like a 
mixture of a waltz and a hymn tune, and while it 
lasted I couldn’t do anything but listen and listen. 
I don’t know how long it played; it seemed to be a 
year, and then it seemed to be only a minute. While 
it was playing, somebody came running and said that 
somebody was coming in the gate, and then all the 
people got up and run away to see if it was anybody 
belonging to them, and left me alone, and I went off 
into a kind of a dream and couldn’t hear anything 
or think of anything but the music — and the next 
thing I knew I was roused up by an angel who was 
shaking me by the shoulder. ‘Get up,’ he says, ‘I’ve 


ADyEHTURES OF AN EFANGELIST 


203 


been hunting everywhere for you. You’ve stayed a 
week over your time now. ’ 

“I jumped up quick and told him that I’d only been 
there a few minutes, and didn’t want to go yet; but 
he wouldn’t hear to me at all, and just hurried me 
along to the gate. As I went past the bunch of angels, 
the one with the big silver clock under his arm hol- 
lered at me, and said, ‘You ought to be ashamed of 
yourself! I reckon you thought you’d come to stay, 
didn’t you.? You’ve been dawdling around a week over 
your time.’ ‘How long have I been here. I’d like to 
know, ’ says I. ‘A good month, ’ says he, ‘and if 
you’d have stayed a day longer you’d have had to 
stay always.’ I didn’t have time to say any more to 
him, the angel pushed me along so, and when I got 
to the gate Peter looked awful black at me, and 
says he: ‘Hurry up! Hurry up there! You’ve been 
in some mischief. I’ll be bound. You won’t get in 
here again in a hurry,’ and he just pushed me out 
and slammed the door. I found the angel that brought 
me there a waiting, but he was awful mad and says 
he, “Well! you’ve kept me waiting a nice time, ain’t 
you.? I’ve fooled away so much time here waiting for 
you that I won’t get my work up in a year,’ and he 
just grabbed me and gave a big jump off from the 
porch, and that’s the last thing I know until I woke 
up here. But are you sure that it was only two days 
ago that I went off.?” 

The bystanders assured her that it was even so, 
but she was loath to believe it, apparently, and de- 
scended from her elevated seat with many expressions 
of incredulity. Finding the revelation ended, the 
company quickly dispersed, and our friends, with no 
very formal leave-taking, were soon seated in the car- 
riage and rolling rapidly homeward. 

Mr. Blow seemed very much impressed by what he 
had seen and heard, and after various disconnected 


204 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


ejaculations, launched off into the following remarks: 

“How great is the goodness of God that he vouch- 
safes to us humble beings such revelations as those we 
have heard to-night — condescending so to assure our 
faith, and inspire our hope. I have much clearer 
ideas of the nature of heaven since listening to the 
remarkable vision that was granted to your Miss 
What’s-the-name, than ever I had before; and much 
more correct notions of the condition and employ- 
ments of the saved. I understand also the meaning 
of the keys being given to Peter. Of course! He 
was thus constituted door-keeper of heaven. Hav- 
ing once denied his Savior, he was unworthy of any 
more exalted station. What a lesson this should 
teach us of the danger of denying our religion! 
The book that he had under his arm, I suppose, 
must have been a catalogue of those who have been 
truly converted. No, I reckon not! For her name 
was not on it. It must be rather a catalogue of 
those who have passed over the River.” 

“Do you think, Mr. Blow,” said Mrs. Gettall, “that 
she actually was in heaven and really saw the things 
she related.?” 

“Of course!” replied Mr. Blow, with much sur- 
prise. “Of course! You can’t imagine that one un- 
der so holy an influence, and amid so solemn surround- 
ings, would tell deliberate falsehoods! A lie would 
have brought upon her the judgment of Ananias and 
Sapphira.” 

“No, I would not accuse Miss Sallie of deliberate 
falsehood. But I am inclined to think her deluded by 
an excited imagination.” 

“You are certainly wrong, madam, and your views, 
though doubtless you do not intend them so, are dis- 
respectful to the Spirit that worked so wonderful a 
blessing to this young lady, and all who heard her. 
There is no reason to doubt the reality of the vision. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


205 


Doesn’t John say, somewhere in the gospel, ‘I was 
in the Spirit with the Lord’s day?’ and doesn’t 
Peter or James say, ‘I knew a man snatched up to 
the seventh heavens?’ 

“Surely with such examples in the Scriptures we 
have no reason to doubt one who, with every appear- 
ance of truth, declares that she has been taken, not 
to the seventh heaven, but merely inside the door of 
the first. Consider how true to our conceptions of 
heaven, and to all that is revealed to us about it, this 
vision is — the redeemed in white robes, with golden 
crowns, and harps, and ravishing music — is not that 
just like heaven ? The angels with starry crowns, the 
chariots of fire to waft us to the regions of bliss — all 
this is in perfect harmony with what we know of 
heaven. And how exquisitely natural the thought that 
those who have gone before are waiting near the 
gate, and running at every arrival to see whether it 
be some of their own loved ones whom they may wel- 
come to glory! I certainly believe the vision true. 
It would be almost infidelity to doubt of it. And I 
devoutly hope and pray that, before my life is ended, 
some such glorious experience may be vouchsafed to 
me.” 

“I agree with Mr. Blow entirely,” said Mrs. Week- 
hart. “I was inclined to doubt, I confess, at first, 
because Miss Sallie seemed so unlikely a person, but 
your reasons have put my mind at rest.” 

“Unlikely person I” said Mr. Blow, “not at all. God 
has always chosen to make his greatest revelations and 
give his most signal blessings by means of the most 
unlikely persons. John and Peter were fishermen; 
Paul was only a needle-driver. I don’t believe any 
of the apostles could read or write. Now if Miss Sal- 
lie had been a person of ability and culture we might 
have had ground to fear that her experience was im- 
aginary, but being what she is it is a matter of pure 


206 


ADVEhITURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


impossibility that she could have invented all that she 
told in her vision.” 

“I never thought of it so,” said Miss Gettall. “That 
seems reasonable.” 

Mrs. Gettall made no further remarks, and at length 
they arrived at home to find Mr. Gettall, in consider- 
able impatience, and in more ill-humor and incivility, 
awaiting them. 


CHAPTER XVII 


WHICH THE READER MAY MISTAKENLY * THINK TO HAVE 
LITTLE BEARING ON THE STORY 

Miss Dolly Williams was sitting in the parlor win- 
dow, half hidden among the curtains; her head was 
reclining upon her arm over the window-seat; and her 
eyes were vacantly watching the twilight shadows, as 
they fell and deepened over the shrubbery of the gar- 
den. She looked pale and thin and listless. The 
girlish curves of her face had changed into straight 
lines and sharp angles. Suddenly a face and figure 
appeared in the dusky light close to her, and a cheery 
voice said: 

“Is my lady building air-castles, or watching for 
her troubadour.? Shall I put a feather in my cap.? 
Shall I sing.? What is my lady’s fancy.?’’ 

Miss Dolly raised herself up, and with an air of con- 
straint replied: “Good evening, Mr. Winters. You 
came in very quietly. I did not see you until you 
spoke.’' 

“Yes,” he answered, “I did not make much noise,, 
and I did not see you until I spoke, or rather, I spoke 
as soon as I saw you. But you do not answer my 
question. Pray let me share in my lady’s fancies. I 
will put them into a sonnet.” 

“If I you mean me by your lady,” she answered 
rather shortly, “she has no fancies.” 

Mr. Winters was silent a few moments, and then 
in a more serious tone said: “I can’t understand 
you, Miss Dolly. You are an enigma to me.” 

207 


208 


AD^EhlTURES OF EVANGELIST 


“Indeed?” she responded drily, “I understand my- 
self perfectly. And I don’t see the necessity of being 
understood by anyone else.” 

Mr. Winters paused again, and then with a re- 
sumption of his bantering, jocose air, said: 

“I am sorry that the rude interruption of my lady’s 
pleasant meditations has brought her displeasure upon 
her devoted servant. He is consoled, though, by the 
thought that he suffers in the discharge of duty. He 
came, as it behooved, to learn whether my lady at- 
tends the ecclesiastical soiree, otherwise church so- 
ciable, at the residence of the worthy Brother Jones, 
this evening.” 

“Will you talk English, and be serious!” exclaimed 
Miss Dolly in an impatient tone. “It’s bad enough 
to be bored without being ridiculed,” she added 
saucily. 

Mr. Winters’ countenance fell. “Will you attend 
the sociable?” he asked. 

“No — well, that is — I don’t want to; but I sup- 
pose I must. If I don’t go, papa will be vexed, 
and Dr. Stolid will call, and stay two hours. Oh 
dear! What a weariness it all is'!” 

A long silence ensued. Miss Dolly gazed at the 
stars, appearing one by one in the sky. Mr. Winters 
gazed at her face with intense interest. Night drew 
her dusky curtains closer around both. Presently 
Mr. Winters took a step nearer, and pulled a long 
breath as if about to speak. Miss Dolly drew back 
with a startled air, and looked at him. 

“Miss Dolly,” he said in a strained, subdued tone, 
“forgive me, if I offend you. You say I bore you. If 
I do, I will go away, but — but- I want first to — 
don’t be angry with me — I mean to say — ” he stop- 
ped a moment as though frightened at himself, and 
then burst out vehemently: “Dolly! darling! I love 
you. I worship you — I adore you. Dolly, I have 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EF'ANGELIST 


209 


loved you since the first moment I caught signt of 
you in the streets of Buffalo. Can you love me.?” 

She said not a word but buried her face in the cur- 
tain and held out a hand as in mute appeal for him 
to forbear. He seized it, and pressed it to his lips. 

“Oh! Dolly, please don’t hush me! Please don’t 
drive me away! I love you more than my life. I 
know — that is, I fear — you do not love me; but per- 
haps you will; perhaps you can, after a time. Tell 
me that you do not love another! Tell me that I may 
hope, even though it he years. I know, and you 
know, that our parents hope that we may be married. 
Your father told me so to-day — I do not urge that 
as a reason why you should consent to my suit, but 
only that you will suspend my condemnation. Do 
not reject me just now. Oh, if you would let me 
prove how crazily, how deeply, how wholly I love 
you !” Again he seized her hand passionately. She 
drew it away suddenly. 

“Ahem,” broke in a feminine voice in the darkness 
— “I beg your pardon. I hope I am not intruding. Is 
Miss Dolly in .? I wanted to see her a moment. But 
it’s of no consequence— I can call to-morrow.” It was 
Mrs. Grundy’s voice, beyond question, and her figure 
loomed up indistinctly through the darkness. 

Mr. Winters turned, and with quiet self-possession 
said: 

“Ah, Mrs. Grundy! Good evening, madam. I think 
Miss Dolly is in the house, walk in, and I will call 
her.” 

“I think I had better call again, Mr. Winters. I 
don’t wish to intrude,” said Mrs. Grundy, but with- 
out making. a movement to go. 

“Intrude.?” queried Mr. Winters surprisedly. “Why, 
not at all ! I can finish some other time. I was merely 
rehearsing my part in a little charade that we have 
in contemplation for the benefit of the church, ‘For- 

Adventures 14 


210 


ADVEl^TURES OF AN EF'ANGELIST 


get me not;’ did you ever hear it? It is in two acts, 

’ and, ^Getmenot.' I personate the unfortunate 
lover who doesn’t get her. Walk in, madam.” 

“Ah! yes,” said Mrs. Grundy, walking into the par- 
lor which Miss Dolly had hurriedly lighted, “I under- 
stand. A capital idea, Mr. Winters, capital! And 
Miss Dolly, I suppose, personates the character who 
is not gotten, perhaps. Starlight rehearsals! Open 
air scenery! how nice! I am afraid I did interrupt, 
though — But I have some news that I know Miss 
Dolly will be glad to hear. Do you know, my dear, 
that they have heard from Mr. Blowman? It’s a 
strange story. He is passing himself off as a preacher 
way out in Texas under the name of the Rev. Abel 
Blow, and is making quite a sensation, they say, be- 
coming very popular — and he is married there. And 
Mr. Smith, your father’s cartman, you know, (Mrs. 
Grundy watched the poor little changing face narrow 
ly) is traveling with him as singer. I did not hear 
whether he was married or not — that is, my informant 
did not know whether it was Mr. Blowman or Mr. 
Smith that was married. Isn’t it strange ? To think of 
those two vagabonds doing so scoundrelly a thing, 
and with success, too! Poor little Mrs. Blowman! I 
hear she is quite sick. I hope the news will revive 
her. I have not been able to see her since I heard 
it. But perhaps she knows all about it already. I 
4id not think Mr. Blowman would be guilty of such 
conduct. He was a nice person — but that Smith! 
One could not have looked for anything else from a 
mere adventurer like him. I understand that the 
police are on their track.” 

“Who are these people, Mrs. Grundy?” asked Mr. 
Winters. 

“Oh, Miss Dolly knows all about them,” she an- 
swered. “She will tell you, I dare say. I must 
hurry home now to get ready for the sociable. I hope 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


211 


you will excuse me for interrupting your rehearsal. 
Good night!” 

Mr. Winters showed Mrs. Grundy out, and returned 
to the parlor to find Miss Dolly gone. Nor did he 
see her again that night. The sociable had to go on 
without her. She did not come down to breakfast, 
the next morning, but sent wdrd that she was suffer- 
ing with a headache and too indisposed to rise. 

Mr. Williams went to his business; Miss Dolly’s 
headaches were rather frequent of late, and caused 
him little uneasiness. Mr. Winters idled around the 
house and grounds, anxiously awaiting Miss Dolly’s 
appearance. Two or three hours having elapsed, he 
concluded that it was useless to wait longer, and 
strolled uneasily down the street. He had not gone 
very far when, looking back, he saw Miss Dolly come 
out of the gate and walk off rapidly in the opposite 
direction. He followed, at first rapidly with the in- 
tention of joining her; then, reflecting that she might 
prefer to be alone, he kept in her wake more slowly. 
And he finally was about to give up the pursuit alto- 
gether as rude and improper, when he saw her enter 
a house. He knew the place; he had been there 
with her, it was Mrs. Blowman’s. His curiosity was. 
aroused to know what connection Miss Dolly had 
with the Blowmans and he determined to wait till she 
came out. He had long to wait. 

The door was opened to Miss Dolly’s tap by a tidy 
woman who made a gesture of silence. “Can I see 
Mrs. Blowman.?” whispered Miss Dolly, in obedience 
to the signal. 

“Yes, ” answered the other in the same tone. “ I guess 
it can’t do no harm. She’s bad off now, poor thing! 
She was doing well this morning, the doctor said, 
but Mrs. Grundy came in, and told her that her hus- 
band was heard from, and that he was married to 
another woman, and was a preacher and that he was 


212 


ADVEI^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


going to be put in jail, and like enough hung. And, 
poor Mrs. Blowman, it like to killed Ijer. She cried 
and screamed like mad, and it was all two of us could 
do to keep her in bed, and she’s been out of her 
head ever since.” Saying this the woman opened a 
door and ushered Miss Dolly into Mrs. Blowman’s 
chamber. 

Two plain but kind-faced women sat beside the 
wretched bed, on which lay the wasted form of the 
unhappy woman. She turned continually from side 
to side on the bed, scanned eagerly with her hollow 
eyes each face in turn, and gazed expectantly at the 
doors and windows, while keeping up an unbroken 
flow of incoherent sentences. 

“Did you say he was coming.? I knew he would not 
stay long. And now we are rich. Yes, Abelard 
dear, I hear you ! You always said that we would 
have an elegant home some day, and be able to live 
in ease. I am coming. But oh. I’m so tired! Do tell 
Mrs. Brown that I cannot finish her dress in time for 
Sunday. There is too much work on that basque. 
Abelard! Abelard! Mr. Blowman! You must pay Mr. 
Williams that bill or he will sell out everything in 
the house. Please don’t take my sewing machine — 
I cannot make a living till he comes home without 
that, and he will come home in a day or two. Oh ! 
(her eyes fell on Miss Dolly, and she stretched 
out her hand, with a smile of recognition, and drew 
her close to her bedside) 0h! how glad I am! I 
waited so long for you, dear love, but I knew you 
had not forgotten me. I knew you would come back 
to your faithful wife. Don’t you know you used to 
call me your Lucy of Light and Love.?” 

With a satisfied smile on her wan face, a look of 
light and love indeed, the exhausted woman lay back 
on her pillow, and closed her eyes, still clinging with 
both hands to that of Miss Dolly. After a time she 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


213 


seemed to sleep, and Miss Dolly endeavored gently to 
withdraw her hand: but at her slightest movement 
Mrs. Blowman opened her eyes with a look of agon- 
ized entreaty. “O don’t, don’t! Abe darling, don’t 
leave me again! I have not much further to go. 
Please go with me, I am so lonely — so lonely without 
you. You have been gone so long. Please stay.” 
Miss Dolly put both her hands into the burning grasp 
of the sick woman, and sitting on the side of the bed 
assured her that she would not go. 

Satisfied with this Mrs. Blowman again closed her 
eyes and lay quiet. 

“She thinks your’re Blowman,” whispered one of 
the women to Miss Dolly. Miss Dolly nodded as- 
sent, and sat still, patiently watching the haggard face 
before her. 

An hour passed. One after another the women 
slipped out to look after their own households, tell- 
ing Miss Dolly that they would presently return. 
Once or twice Miss Dolly tried to remove her hands, 
but at their least movement the hot fingers closed 
more tightly upon them. Nearly another hour was 
past when Mrs. Blowman opened her eyes with a look 
of apparent intelligence and gazed straight into Miss 
Dolly’s face. 

“Mrs. Blowman,” said Miss Dolly, “do you know 
me .?” 

Tears began to trickle down the pallid cheeks. “O 
Abelard, how can you speak to me so cruelly after all 
this! You used to call me your Lucy of Light and 
Love, and now to call me ‘Mrs. Blowman!’” She 
sobbed piteously. “But at least you are here, at least 
you will take care of the children when I go. I am 
going — I know it.” 

“But, my dear Mrs. Blowman,” said Miss Dolly, “I 
am not Mr. Blowman. I am Dolly Williams. I came 
to ask you if you know where Mr. Blowman is.” 


214 


ADVBmVRES OF AN EVANGELIST 


As Miss Dolly spoke, the grasp of Mrs. Blowman’s 
hand loosened, and her face assumed an expression of 
wild terror. 

“What.^” she screamea. “You not Abelard! Abe- 
lard not here! Oh! is begone.!^ What will become 
of me.? What will become of my poor children .? Oh, 
God!” With an agonizing spasm the poor woman 
clasped her hands across her heart and fell back 
motionless upon the bed. Miss Dolly screamed, 
and the women who came running in found her 
fainting upon the floor, and Mrs. Blowman lying 
dead, with a small stream of blood trickling from 
her mouth. 

Mr. Winters was walking aneasily up and down 
some distance from the house, wearied with the long 
delay of Miss Dolly, and wondering whether she had 
slipped out unobserved by him, when he saw her 
coming out. He joined her immediately with an ex- 
pression of surprise at meeting her, as though it were 
purely accidental. She returned no answer to his 
polite chat, and they walked homeward in silence. 
He was about to leave her at the door, when she said 
peremptorily, “Come into the parlor. I want to 
talk to you.” Mr. Winter’s face brightened instantly. 

“Certainly,” he said; “nothing could delight me 
more than to hear my lady talk. I feared from the 
experience of my walk that she was not exactly in a 
talking humor.” 

They sat down in the parlor. Mr. Winters looked 
expectantly at her. She seemed constrained and ill 
at ease. He said in a serious tone: 

“I hope that this conference is not to deal me my 
death-blow. Dolly, darling, I cannot endure it. 
Pray let me hope. Please — ” She interrupted him : 

“Mr. Winters, listen to me. You say that you love 
me. I believe that you do; therefore you will care for 
my happiness. You are a gentleman, a man of honor, 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


215 


therefore I can trust you. But I don’t know how 
to tell you what must be told. I cannot help it; you 
must assist me. Promise me that you will not betray 
my confidence.” She looked him straight in the face. 

“I promise,” he said. 

“On your honor as a gentleman.?” 

“I promise.” 

“Promise that you will help me,” still looking stead- 
ily into his eyes. 

“I promise.” 

“Promise by the love that you profess for me.” 

“I promise.” 

“Sit nearer to me.” 

He drew his chair close beside her and took her 
hand. She drew her hand away and moving a little 
from him covered her face. 

“Mr. Winters, I do not love you. I respect you; I 
admire you; but I do not love you, and I cannot; for 
I love another—” Mr. Winters started to his feet. 
“Sit down,” she said, “I am not done yet. The man 
I love is Mr. Smith, the one who is in Texas with 
Mr. Blowman. My father drove him away because 
he is poor. But he is good and noble, and he loves me. 
And I am going to Texas to find him. You must go 
with me. If we find him, and he loves me still, and 
will marry me, I shall ever hold you as my best 
friend, and love you for your kindness. If we do 
not find him, or if he is changed, I will marry you. 
Perhaps I may learn to love you then; at least you 
will deserve my hand if you are willing to take it with- 
out my heart. Will you help me.?” Mr. Winters arose 
and paced the room from from end to end with his 
arms folded across his breast and his teeth set tightly. 
Miss Dolly regarded him furtively. Presently he 
stopped before her, and said: 

“You surely think me something more than human.” 

“No,” she answered. “But I think that you love 


216 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


me, and I know that if you love me truly, as you say, 
you will do anything that will make me happy.” 

Mr. Winters frowned, and resumed his walk. Miss 
Dolly watched him wonderingly. She tried to guess 
what was passing in his mind. She began to fear that 
she had misjudged him. He had always been to her 
a light-hearted, chivalrous gallant, whose first thought 
was to serve a lady, his last thought himself. She 
had supposed that he would enter heartily into her 
plan the instant it was broached — glad in any way to 
please her. At last, after at least half an hour, he 
sat down on the sofa opposite her with a settled, firm 
look on his face that she had never seen there before. 
Said he : 

“Miss Dolly, I do not think your plan a wise one. 
Would it not be better to write to Mr. Smith and 
have him come to you.?” 

“No, I don’t know his address.” 

“But we can find it easily.” 

“No, he would not come. He is too honorable to 
come against my father’s will, and father never would 
consent. I must go to him.” 

“But, think, if we do as you say, everybody 
would say at once that you had eloped with me.” 

“I don’t care what anybody says. Go I will! If you 
will go with me I shall be glad. But whether you go 
or not, I am going, and going to-night. ’ ’ 

“Let me speak to your father first about your re- 
lations with Mr. Smith.” 

“No, you shall not. You have promised on your 
honor to keep my secret, and on your love to help 
me. Will you keep your promise or not.?” 

Mr. Winters resumed his walk without replying; 
after a while he paused before her, and extending his 
hand, said, “I will keep my promise.” 

She took his hand, and kissed it. 

Mr. Williams came home to dinner rather earlier 


^DyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 217 

than usual that day, and sent for his daughter to 
meet him in the parlor. He met her with an annoyed 
look upon his face, and said abruptly: “What does 
all this mean, my daughter.^ 

“All what, papa.?” asked she, with an air of alarm. 

“Horace’s going. He came into the office this 
afternoon and said that he should have to leave by 
the first train; and he is gone. I could get no reason 
from him at all, and he looked very blue and down- 
cast. I hope you have not disregarded my wishes 
and rejected his suit. I told him yesterday that I 
should be proud to have him for a son-in-law. He 
spoke to you about it, did he not.?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And you told him — ” 

“That I could not give a decided answer yet.” 

“I regret ^ery much that you did not accept him 
at once; but I cannot think such an answer sufficient 
to discourage him entirely. You did not mention, I 
hope, your other unfortunate affair, nor express any 
aversion to his attention.?” 

Miss Dolly blushed and hesitated, “I told him that 
I respected and admired him very much,” she said 
evasively. Mr. Williams looked at her attentively. 
“Well,” he said in a milder tone, “I don’t know that 
you could have said any more, perhaps. I think I see 
how the wind blows. But, my dear, don’t be too 
modest, some young men are easily discouraged. But,” 
he added after a moment, “I didn’t think Horace 
could have been bluffed so easily. We will make it 
all right this time. Speak plainer the next.” 

So they went in to dinner. The next morning 
when Mr. Williams came down to breakfast Miss 
Dolly did not make her appearance. He sent to her 
room to call her, and the servant reported that she 
was not in her room nor in the house. Mr. Williams 
was vexed; he did not like to have any break in the 


218 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


routine of his life, and sat down to his breakfast 
muttering something about its being very unusual and 
absurd for his daughter to go out before breakfast. 
When he came home to dinner he was surprised to 
learn that Miss Dolly had been absent all day, and 
Sent the servants around to her most intimate friends 
to inquire for her. She was not to be found. As 
ho was perplexedly wondering what to make of this 
extraordinary state of affairs, in walked Mrs. Grundy. 
“Excuse me, Mr. Williams. So Miss Dolly’s gone.? 
Run away with Mr. Winters — How do I know.? 
Why, Mr. Perkins, my nephew, who is employed on 
the railroad, saw it all. They went off on the 1:30 
train last night — came down in a carriage and without 
any baggage. I thought something of the kind was 
brewing when I was here night before last. By the 
merest accident I overheard a part of the conversation, 
and I thought then that perhaps I ought to speak 
to you about it, but then it was none of my business. 
I canTsee for the life of me why you should object 
to the young man. He seems a likely person and, 
I hear, is very well off — indeed, I think she might 
have done worse. But then you know best, I sup- 
pose. I am afraid you can't help yourself now. Dear, 
dear! This is a strange world! To think of Dolly’s 
running away. I feel for you, I assure you I do. But 
I think it is partly your own fault; you might have 
known that two young people could not be together 
as they have been these weeks past, and something 
not come of it. I told Mary Jane, Mr. Perkins’ wife, 
only a day or two ago, that I was sure it would be so, 
and I am not often mistaken. I suppose you will 
telegraph to stop them. ‘Come back, all is forgiven’ — 
that’s what I would say; but perhaps you know bet- 
ter than I what should be done.” 

Mrs. Grundy had her say, and left Mr. Williams 
no wiser than when she came. 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


219 


When she was gone, he sat down to consider the 
majtter. Very extraordinary it was, he thought, that 
Mr. Winters should elope with his daughter. He 
could see no reason in it. But then it was not im- 
probable. Young folks had no reason. No doubt 
they Wanted a little romance to begin life with. 
These novels that young people are so addicted to 
reading nowadays have a very baneful influence upon 
their minds. He might be thankful that it was no 
worse. Horace could have no evil intentions with 
regard to his daughter. He was a man of honor, of 
a good family, and might be trusted. On the whole 
it would be better to let them alone. It was rather 
mortifying not to have Dolly married in some style, 
but that could not be mended now. They would re- 
turn in a day or two as man and wife to receive his 
blessing. He would wait. So he waited, though not 
without misgivings; and as the days passed, and they 
did not return, his misgivings turned into downright 
anxiety. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

WHICH FOLLOWS FAITHFULLY THE COURSE OF TIME 
AND CIRCUMSTANCES 

If the reader have a good memory, he - (or she — 
probably she) will recall the fact that at last accounts 
Mr. Blow was enjoying the hospitality of Mr. Get- 
tall. Up to the evening of the camp-meeting, he had 
found his entertainment delightful. But at the break- 
fast-table on the morning following, he experienced a 
manifest but unnamable change. Mr. Gettall was 
attentive to his duties as host — unexceptionably so — 
but his very attentions had an air of rudeness — of 
condescension. Mrs. Gettall was if possible more 
polite than usual, but as distant and cold in her per- 
fect elegance as a snow-covered mountain-peak. Miss 
Gettall was yet in her room and the children were 
silent and constrained. Before the meal was finished 
Mr. Gettall excused himself on the plea of business 
and lefWthe house. And immediately after they rose 
from the table Mrs. Gettall disappeared, and Mr. 
Blow was left tete-a-tete with Mrs. Weekhart. He 
sat looking uncomfortably out of the front window, 
and she looking: at him. 

“Abel, dear,” she remarked at length, “you look 
worn out with your work last night. Do you feel 
well 

“Well enough!” he answered shortly. 

“What is the matter.?” asked she with a start. 

“That is just what I should like to know. Old 
Gettall seems to be in a bad humor this morning, and 
320 


^DFENTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 221 

the madam don’t look very pleasant. Been having 
a family difference, I guess. I think we have been 
here long enough. You go and pack up your things 
and I will go and have the carriage brought around.” 

“But we have not given them any notice that we 
intended to leave,” remonstrated Mrs. Weekhart. 

“That makes no difference. Go and tell Mrs. Get- 
tall now, and we can drive by the store and tell Get- 
tall good-bye.” 

Mr. Blow’s programme was soon carried into exe- 
cution. Mrs. Gettall expressed surprise at the sudden- 
ness of their departure, but interposed no objection, 
and merely expressed a polite hope of seeing them on 
their return. Miss Gettall remained invisible, and 
Mr. Gettall said an abrupt adieu. They were soon 
riding along alone over the road to Austin. The way 
was long and tedious, the principal events of the jour- 
ney being tender attentions on the part of Mrs. Week- 
hart, solicitous for Mr. Blow’s comfort, and anx- 
ious to win some affectionate caress from him. Mr. 
Blow was not a man to be proof against female bland- 
ishments. Already he loved the charming widow, 
and as they rode easily along, frequently hand in 
hand and with his arm encircling her waist, he felt 
each hour that he was falling deeper and deeper into 
her power. The evening of the second day brought 
the journey to an end at a hotel in Austin. The next 
morning, dressed with elaborate care, Mr. Blow sallied 
forth to make arrangements for a series of meetings. 
He was bold and self-confident. His first care was to 
procure the addresses of the various ministers of the 
city, with the intention of calling upon them several- 
ly and enlisting their co-operation in his plans. But 
he had gotten scarcely a block from the hotel when a 
bright thought struck him. He returned, and having 
obtained from the proprietor permission to use a par- 
lor for a ministerial meeting, he sat down and wrote 
a note as follows: 


222 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“The Reverend Abel Blow, A. B., the widely known 
and eminently successful evangelist, having arrived 

in this city, presents his compliments to the Rev. , 

and cordially invites him to attend a meeting of con- 
ference this evening at half-past seven o’clock at the 

parlors of the Hotel, with himself and the other 

Protestant ministers of the city, to -consider what 
steps must be taken for the spread of the light of the 
gospel throughout the dominions of Satan in Austin.” 

A copy of this note was soon dispatched to each of 
the ministers whose addresses he could learn, and Mr. 
Blow sat complacently down to await results. “Of 
course,” he said confidently to Mrs. Weekhart, “some 
of the ministers will call at once.” 

“Of course they will,” she assented. 

He went on: “By this means, you see, I get them 
all pledged to the success of the meeting. If any of 
them disapprove of what may be done after the thing 
is begun, they can’t say anything, you know. Their 
mouths are stopped.” 

“I see,” she said approvingly. 

“And then,” continued he, “I have a great advan- 
tage before the people in rising above all denomina- 
tional differences--! take a catholic — that is, liberal 
— ground. The Methodists can’t oppose it because 
it is a Baptist meeting, nor the Baptists because it is 
Presbyterian. I invite them all to meet on the broad 
ground of a common Christianity, and unite in a com- 
mon cause against a common enemy. By that means 
.1 get rid of all oppositions and jealousies, and open 
the hearts of all; and,” be added in a lower tone, 
“the pockets of all.” 

“How smart you are!” said she approvingly. 

“I try to be as wise as a snake, as well as innocent 
as a dove,” he said self-consciously. 

“And you succeed, I am sure,” she responded. 

Mr. Blow, not thinking of anything further to say, 


ADyEJ^TURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


223 


relapsed into the morning paper, and a state of ex- 
pectancy. Having read the paper through, advertise- 
ments and all, he looked at his watch, and then began 
walking up and down the room. Ten o’clock" came 
and no callers. Eleven passed, and twelve; still no- 
body came in. Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart went 
to dinner. Still none of the ministers appeared. Mr. 
Blow fidgeted about uneasily until three. He could 
stand it no longer. He ordered out the carriage and 
with his companion drove about the city. At five 
they returned to the hotel; and Mr. Blow inquired 
anxiously at the office whether anybody had called to 
see him. “Nobody, sir,” was the answer. 

Seven o’clock came and still nobody. Mr. Blow, 
with a feeling of injured innocence, sat alone in the 
parlor. Suddenly a knock at the door made Mr. 
Blow ,in his strained expectancy, almost start from 
his chair, and the Rev. Mr. Bill was announced. 

The Rev. Mr. Bill was a shock-headed, tangle- 
bearded, stoop-shouldered man, in well-worn cos- 
tume. He advanced hesitatingly toward Mr. Blow. 
“Is this Brother Blow, the evangelist.?” 

Mr. Blow’s self-possession returned instantly. He 
met Mr. Bill in the middle of the room, shook him 
warmly by the hand, assured him of the delight that 
his acquaintance gave him, and seated him on a sofa, 
taking a position at his right. 

“You are a resident of this city, Mr. Bill.?” 

“Well, yes. I’ve lived here a good long while now 
— going on nine years.” 

“What denomination are you pastor of, sir.?” 

“Well, I’m a good old Methodist.” 

“I suppose you have charge of the Methodist con- 
gregation here.?” 

“Well, no. Not exactly. Brother Brown, he’s the 
regular preacher. But I’m a local preacher. I can’t 
ride a circuit very well on account of my— my health 


224 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


sometimes. So my wife she keeps a boarding-house, 
and I preach once in a while, when there’s a call for 
it.” 

“Ah! Will Brother Br6wn be out to-night.?” 

“I can’t say exactly, for I ain’t seen him, but I 
reckon not, for he has to go to prayer-meeting to- 
night.” 

Mr. Blow, without further ado, entered into an 
exposition of his plans, and recounted his previous 
triumphs. Half-past seven came, with no fresh ar- 
rivals. The clock struck eight and Mr. Blow began to 
lose heart. Would nobody come.? He watched the 
door anxiously, and continued his lecture to Bro, 
Bill. At last, at half-past eight, he remarked, “I fear 
nobody else cares enough for the salvation of souls to 
attend our conference. This apathy on the part of 
the professed leaders of religion argues a fearful moral 
condition in this community. I must resort to some 
other means to reach their consciences. Good night. 
Brother Bill. We may well go to our closets and 
pray for an outpouring upon the preachers as well as 
the people.” 

Bro. Bill departed, and Mr. Blow, in disappoint- 
ment and righteous indignation, sought the privacy 
of his room to elaborate a plan for the morrow’s 
proceedings. 


CHAPTER XIX 


WHEREIN THE HARDNESS OF THE UNCONVERTED HEART 
IS CLEARLY DEPICTED 

“What was done at the meeting last night?” asked 
Mrs. Weekhart when she and Mr. Blow met at the 
breakfast table. 

“Very little, answered he deliberately, “in fact, 
nothing satisfactory. For some reason the attend- 
ance was very small;” and with a sigh he added, 
“I fear that religion is at a very low ebb in this 
community, when the pastors take so little inter- 
est in the salvation of the lost.” 

“I suppose,” she queried, “that you will have a 
meeting, of course?” 

“Of course!” said he decidedly. 

“When does it begin?” 

“I can’t say exactly, but I am going out this morn- 
ing to make the arrangements, and hope to be able to 
begin to-morrow. I must see Mr. Brown, the Metho- 
dist pastor, as soon as possible.” Half an hour later 
Mr. Blow rang the bell of Mr. Brown’s front door. 
He was shown into an elegantly furnished parlor, and 
sent up his card with the message that he wished to 
see Mr. Brown on very important business.. It was 
nearly half an hour before Mr. Brown made his ap- 
pearance. He was a well-dressed, middle-aged man, 
in side-whiskers and spectacles. With a very^istant 
air he looked from the card in his hand to his visitor, 
saying, “You are Mr. Blow, I believe. To what do 
I owe the honor of your visit ?” 

235 


^5 


226 


^IDFENTURES OF AN EJAANGELIST 


“Yes, sir, answered Mr. Blow,, advancing and offer- 
ing his hand, “I am Mr. Blow, sir, the Reverend 
Able Blow, A.B., the evangelist, sir, so widely known 
through Texas and other parts as — a — as a converter 
of souls.” 

Mr. BroWn, not noticing the extended hand, made 
a slight bow and said : “Ah, indeed. Is there any- 
thing I can do for yOu, sir?” 

Mr. Blow was disconcerted. “I intend, sk,” he 
replied, “to hold a series of revival meetings in 
your city, and I thought I would ask your co- 
operation, and the use of your church.” 

“I am very sorry, Mr. Blow, very sorry indeed,” 
rejoined the other in very quiet and very positive 
tones, “that I can do nothing to further your lauda- 
ble plan. I am about to leave town for a few weeks’ 
holiday, a^d the church will be closed for repairs. If 
there is nothing further, sir, I will wish you good- 
morning. My time is very much occupied.” 

Mr. Blow, without replying even so much as to say 
good-morning, put on his hat and left the house. He 
was furious, and walked away from the door denounc- 
ing Mr. Brown, and the Methodists in general, in 
strong terms but sotto voce. After Walking some time 
to allow his feelings to calm down, he repaired to the 
house of the Presbyterian minister on a similar errand. 
Here he met a more cordial reception, but failed to 
procure a promise of co-operation or the use of a 
church for his meetings. Full of righteous indigna- 
tion he went next to the Baptist minister’s. This 
gentleman was not in; but his wife assured Mr. Blow 
that his time was too much occupied to allow him to 
assist at the meetings, and that she felt sure that the 
church was not to be had. 

Mr. Blow returned to his hotel very angry, and greatly 
disappointed. He took Mrs. Weekhart into his con- 
fidence, detailed the state of affairs, and desired her 
advice. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


227 


“Well,” she answered, “I think it is a shame for 
them to treat you so. I don’t know what we had 
better do; but I reckon perhaps we had best go home 
and get married. You need some rest. Don’t you 
think so.?” 

“No!” said the evangelist emphatically, “I don’t 
propose to give it up so; I will hold my meetings and 
I’ll make this town too hot to hold Brother Brown 
and the rest of them. I’ll show them who they are 
trifling with.” 

“But where will you hold the meetings.?” said Mrs. 
Weekhart. 

“I don’t know. If I can’t get a church, I’ll rent a 
hall. Yes! Yes! that’s the best plan; then I’ll be 
independent of them all.” 

Some further conversation ensued, Mrs. Weekhart 
endeavoring to dissuade Mr. Blow from his attempt 
to carry on his work despite the tacit opposition of 
the ministers of the place. But he was determined, 
and presently went out to rent a suitable place. He 
was rather staggered at finding that the cheapest 
place that he could find, at all fit for the purpose, 
was held at $20 a night, payable in advance. He en- 
deavored to persuade the proprietors to reduce the 
rent in consideration of the character of his meetings, 
but they said that they were minded rather to charge 
more — that they disliked to have the hall used for re- 
ligious purposes. So he at last closed the bargain 
and paid the rent for one night. The next morning a 
flaming advertisement, which cost also a round sum, 
appeared in the papers: 

“Great revival meeting to-night at Shouting Hall! 

“The Reverend Abel Blow, A. B., the great Evangelist 
and popular preacher, will preside. Who 
is on the Lord’s side.? 


228 


ADVEhlTURES OF Ah! EJ^ANGELIST 


“Down with the powers of darkness! Seats free, grand 
enthusiasm. Come one, come all. 

“Here is your only hope of salvation! Third and last 
call! Mind the time: 7:30 p. m. sharp.” 

This notice was read by Mr. Blow and Mrs. Week- 
hart with great satisfaction. And it was also read by 
a great many others. 

“We will see what will come of that,” said Mr. Blow 
approvingly, after re-reading it aloud for the third 
time to his co-laborer. 

“Don’t you reckon that some of the ministers are 
sorry that they did not ask you to hold the meeting 
in their churches.?” asked she. 

“You bet they are. They’ll learn a lesson, / think.” 
And Mr. Blow put on an expression of sad severity. 
“I don’t believe they’ll interfere with the Lord’s 
work again in a hurry.” 

As the appointed hour approached, this devoted 
evangelist and his companion set out for the place 
of meeting, both expressing great confidence in its 
success, and both feeling many misgivings about it. 
As they came near, they saw several small groups of 
men standing around the door. This sight caused 
Mr. Blow to feel great encouragement. 

“We shall have a large attendance to-night,” he 
said cheerfully. “Already the hall is full, though it is 
quite early, and here are some standing outside.” As 
he passed in he bid the bystanders “Good evening,” 
receiving only a rude stare for a reply. Entering the 
hall, he found to his disappointment that so far from 
being full, it held not over a score of people, mostly 
boys and young men. The Rev. Mr. Bill was pres- 
ent, seated in the front row of benches. Mr. Blow 
and Mrs. Weekhart wenf up and took seats upon the 
platform. 


AOyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


229 


Presently Mr. Bill stepped upon the platform and 
volunteered any assistance that lay in his power, at 
the same time shaking hands violently with both the 
evangelist and his assistant. Mr. Blow, with some 
asperity of manner, declined the offer, saying that he 
was accustomed to take full charge of his meetings. 

“I didn’t mean no offense,” said Mr. Bill, “I humbly 
beg your parding,” and he retired to his seat. 

Mr. Blow waited, and a few more peaple came in 
by twos and threes. After a time Mr. Blow,- casting 
about for the means of beginning the services, dis- 
covered that the room contained no Bible. He him- 
self was not fortunate enough to own one. In per- 
plexity he turned to Mrs. Weekhart, and asked her 
if she had so much as a Testament. She had not. 
He went down to Mr. Bill and put the question to 
him. Mr. Bill had no Bible with him, but would 
gladly step out and fetch one, which he accordingly 
did, and upon his return took a seat upon the plat- 
form. The appointed hour was already some min- 
utes past. Our trio occupied the platform at the 
upper end of the hall. At the lower end some forty 
or more people sat in various attitudes of indifference 
or expectation. 

Mr. Blow consulted his watch, and looked at the 
congregation. 

“I reckon it’s time to begin.?” said Mr. Bill interrog- 
atively. 

“Brother Bill,” said Mr. Blow, in a loud and solemn 
tone, “will you open the meeting with a brief 
prayer.?” 

Brother Bill arose, and extending his hands toward 
the congregation, said: 

“Let us pray for the blessing of God upon this 
meeting and especially upon this great evangelist who 
is about to break to our souls the bread of life, and 
particularly for this sweet sister who will presently 


230 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


entertain us with her fine songs, and generally for all 
saints and all sinners, and for a outpouring of the 
Spirit upon us. And, brethren, if some of you ain’t 
converted at this meeting it won’t be God’s fault, nor 
ours. Let us pray.” 

A prayer followed, which included all the objects 
specified, and as many more as came into Brother 
Bill’s mind. He prayed fervently. He prayed long. 
He prayed until, in desperation, Mr. Blow suggested 
in an undertone, “That’ll do. Brother Bill,” when he 
concluded abruptly and sat down in confusion. 

Mr. Blow arose and announced in a stentorian 
voice: “The next exercise will be a hymn by Sister 
Weekhart, in which all the congregation are requested 
to join. Come forward, brethren, to front seats, and 
lift up your voices to God.” 

Sister Weekhart sang, “I am so Glad,” in her very 
best style, but with no effect on the congregation. 
They declined to come forward, or join them in sing- 
ing, or even to stand, but coolly kept their seats. 
After the hymn, Mr. Blow read a' chapter from the 
Bible procured by the kind offices of Brother Bill, and 
offered a prayer, in which he pathetically described 
the dreadful wickedness of the sinners of Austin, 
the sad coldness of the professing Christians, and the 
great blessings which were to follow his meetings. 
During the progress of this exercise, some of the young- 
er of the auditors began to groan distressfully, a per- 
formance which elicited a burst of uncontrollable 
laughter from one of the others. Another hymn fol- 
lowed, very sweetly sung by Mrs. Weekhart. 

This concluded, Mr. Blow arose and announced his 
text: 

“If he will not turn, he will whet his sword.” 

“Turn or burn” was the subject, and as the familiar 
words flowed from his lips, and the listeners began to 
manifest some attentive interest, Mr. Blow waxed bold 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


231 


and confident. He would succeed yet. But, alas, 
in the midst of the sermon his eyes fell upon a young 
man in the back seat who was making some very 
insulting and derisive gestures, to the great amuse- 
i^ient of those who sat near him. 

Mr. Blow hesitated a moment, undecided whether 
to stop and reprimand the offender or not. The 
pause was fatal. His mind was distracted from the 
words. In a moment his memory was at fault, and 
the sermon vanished For several minutes he stood 
trying to recall the lost argument. He stammered 
on a few sentences, and finally sat down, requesting 
Mrs. Weekhart to sing. His discomfiture did not es- 
cape the observation of the auditors, one of whom 
remarked audibly: “That little feller’s forgot his 
piece” — a witticism that occasioned considerable mer- 
riment. After the hymn Mr. Blow requested some- 
body to pass the hat while the next hymn was sung. 
An awkward pause ensued ; nobody volunteered to pass 
the hat. “Brother Bill,” said Mr. Blow, “will you 
please pass the hat.^’^ 

Bro. Bill picked up Mr. Blow’s hat and circulated 
it through the congregation, while Mrs. Weekhart 
sang “Nothing either great or small,” alias “Jesus 
paid it all.” Certainly the congregation thought so, 
for when the hat returned to Mr. Blow it contained 
just forty-five cents. He took it and looked into it. 
It 'was too much — or rather, perhaps, too little. His 
heart was touched; his indignation was aroused; and 
he launched off upon the most eloquent speech of 
his whole life. He began by sketching his own great 
self-sacrifice, and the great pains and expense he had 
been at to come to Austin. He estimated the amount 
of his traveling outlays, hotel bills, hall hire, and 
advertising. He detailed his futile attempts to inter- 
est the ministers in his meeting, and described the 
interviews that he had had with some of them — all in 


232 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


the most vivid colors; and concluded by denouncing 
Austin, its ministers, churches and people in the 
most unmeasured terms — shaking the dust from his 
feet, and bewailing the sad fate of all, in the hereaf- 
ter. 

“Yes,” he said, “and you. You who came here to 
hear the blessed gospel of salvation set forth with 
more eloquence than you ever heard in your lives, or 
ever will hear again — you, with those thrilling strains 
ringing in your ears — can give forty-five cents to help 
on the message of salvation — forty-five cents — forty- 
five I tell you you are the devil’s own children. 

Your souls are not so big as a cent — not near so big 
as an old-fashioned copper! Aye, and when you 
are roasting in hell, the devils will sing for your 
lullaby, forty-five cents!” 

Bursts of ringing applause interrupted this touching 
oration, and at its conclusion one of the audience 
jumped upon a bench and cried: “Bully for the evan- 
gelist! Three groans for the parsons!” The groans 
were given with a will. Three groans for Austin; 
three groans for the people; three groans for Brother 
Bill; three groans for the revival meeting, and 
finally three times three groans for the forty-five 
cents, were given, with hearty good will, amid up- 
roarious bursts of laughter. 

Amidst the groans Mr. Blow and Mrs. Weekhart 
managed to make their escape, and find their way to 
the hotel. Mr. Blow walked up and down the parlor 
for some time in silence, Mrs. Weekhart not daring 
to interrupt his meditations. Finally she plucked up 
courage, and said: 

“Don’t you think it would have been better if you 
had taken my advice.? Indeed, it is not too late now. 
You can discontinue your work for a time, we will be 
married and go home.” Mr. Blow did not reply. 
After a while she said, “What is the matter, dearest 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


233 


— I mean, Mr. Blow — are you angry with me.^ Have 
I offended you.?” 

“No, my love,” he returned, “but my heart is heavy 
within me considering the hard-heartedness of the 
unregenerate souls. Oh, how I long to save them — 
but I fear they are beyond help. My efforts for their 
good are a failure — a complete failure. I have” — a 
knock at the door interrupted these remarks, and 
Brother Bill came in. 

“I don’t want to bother you. Brother Blow,” he 
said; “but I kinder thought I’d like to know whether 
you’ll have a meeting to-morrow night.” 

“No!” answered Mr. Blow decisively; “No. I 
have no such intention.” 

“Well, I thought you’d better not. The fact is 
that you’ve got odds to work agi’n’ here. We had 
a evangelist what come along here last summer, and 
he was an unlikely feller, and got on a big drunk, 
and after that at a meeting of the ministers it were 
decided not to encourage any more such. Nor no 
evangelists at all. After the evangelist were here no- 
body seemed to want to go to church, and the mem- 
bership fell off amazing. Instead of the churches 
being fuller they was emptier, and he had so many 
collections that whenever the plate was passed in 
church the young fellers would groan like; and down 
on the street corners they’d say, ‘Let’s take up a col- 
lection,’ and pass around a hat for fun. I think per- 
haps if you hadn’t took up a collection to-night 
there’ d a been no trouble, and you’d a got a pretty 
good crowd to-morrow night, for you preach a pret- 
ty fair sermon.” 

“Mr. Bill,” said Mr. Blow sharply, “will you be 
kind enough to leave us.?” 

“Certainly I will,” said the other, “certainly. But 
I just thought I’d tell you plain how matters was, and 
I don’t know but what the boys is right. I reckon 


234 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


all you evangelists is pretty much of a piece. Good- 
night.” And Mr. Bill, having relieved his mind, 
promptly took his departure. 

“What an outrageous scoundrel that is,” said Mrs. 
Weekhart, as he went out. “The idea of comparing 
you to that drunken hypocrite who has been imposing 
on them herel I felt like giving him a piece of my 
mind.” And she looked as though her mind’s pieces 
were particularly disagreeable. 

“Never mind, my dear sister,” said Mr. B., look- 
ing the personification of injured innocence. “It is 
the fate of the good and pure-minded to be slandered 
and traduced. One of the crosses and trials of purity 
is the hypocrisy of unworthy imitators. We had 
better turn our thoughts to the future. If we meet 
no better sucgess elsewhere than in Austin I fear we 
shall soon be reduced to want.” 

“No fear of that, darling,” answered Mrs. Week- 
hart consolingly, “I have enough for us both, and I 
think it would be betler for the present to give up 
preaching and have our nuptials celebrated.” 

Mr. Blow took her hand caressingly, and seemed 
about to consenbto her proposal; but after some min- 
utes thought he exclaimed, “No, it is impossible for 
us to be married until I have arranged some little 
details of business that will take me North a few 
days.” 

“What business is it.?” queried Mrs. Weekhart, 

“No matter; let us talk about something else.” 

“Well, can’t you take me North with you.? I never 
have been North, and I am very anxious to go.” 

“Do you know any of the towns around here.?” 
asked Mr. B. ignoring the subject. 

“Not very well,” answered Mrs. Weekhart pout- 
ingly. “There’s Lockport not far from here, and 
Gonzales, San Marcos, and Bastrop. 

“I think, then, that we will go to Lockport to- 


ADVEmURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


235 


rrforrow, if it is not too far. Perhaps the Lord may 
be pleased to send us a blessing there. I thought of 
going to San Antonio, and Galveston and Houston. 
But from what I find here, I suppose perhaps that 
we will succeed better in some of the smaller places. 
Good night.” 


CHAPTER XX 


WHICH ADVANCES RAPIDLY TOWARD A CRISIS IN THIS 
VERITABLE HISTORY 

The journey to Lockport occupied the larger share 
of the next day. The weather, like most of the sum- 
mer weather of Texas, was bright and warm — rather 
too warm for perfect comfort. The road lay through 
some of the loveliest of Texas scenery, and every- 
thing conspired to make our adventurers happy. But 
they were not happy. Mr. Blow was moody and 
disappointed. He could think of nothing but the un- 
happy failure of his venture in Austin, and the more 
he thought about it, the more vexed and angry he 
grew. He lamented the wickedness and hard-heart- 
edness of the place, and the horrible fate which, he 
was sure, awaited it in the future world. He be- 
wailed the great expense he had been at in hall-hire 
and advertising. He heaped maledictions upon Bro. 
Brown, Bro. Bill, and all the other ministers of the 
city, and finally he blamed Mrs. Weekhart for his 
going to Austin at all. She, poor soul, would have 
been well content if he had never seen the place, and 
felt heartily grieved for his disappointment; and now 
that the blame was saddled upon her, she bore it with 
meekness, and used every endeavor to console her 
companion. Her panacea for every trouble was that 
they should be married at once and retire from the 
trials and vexations of public life to her estate, and 
this course of action she urged upon him every half- 
hour. The immediate celebration of their nuptials 
seemed to be the only thought of her mind — the one 
236 


ADVEhITURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


237 


desire of her heart. Poor thing! She loved her 
saintly hero with every power of her heart. He 
seemed to her the very embodiment of the good, the 
true and the beautiful. She worshiped him blindly. 
To be near him was bliss and joy. Mr. Blow, on 
the other hand, felt annoyed by her constant atten- 
tions. Frequently when her hand sought his, he 
drew it away. She had been won too easily to be 
prized very highly, and the very lavishness of her 
affection disgusted him. He never had loved her in 
any real sense, though he had loved her as truly as 
he was capable of loving. And since he had felt that 
she was all his own, after a brief enjoyment of his 
triumph, he began to repent seriously of having 
achieved it. He thought of his family, he thought 
of her terrible brother, and rode along in moody 
silence, only half hearing her now troublesome prot- 
estations of affection, and revolving in his mind some 
plan to safely be rid of her. 

“I tell you, my dear,” he answered to her fiftieth 
proposal of immediate marriage, “I tell you, my dear, 
that it is impossible. I must go North and attend to 
some little matters concerning my property before I 
can possibly contract matrimony — and I feel that any 
such step might result in the loss of thousands of 
souls, as it would necessarily interrupt my labors on 
their behalf.” 

“Could we not be married first, and then go North 
together.?” she asked. 

“No,” he replied after a pause, “the fact is that the 
matters concerning the orphans can best be settled in 
a state of celibacy — ” 

“What orphans.? Your children.? Oh, Abel, love, 
you didn’t tell me that you had orphan children. 
How I should love to see the dear little things. Do 
they look like you .? Are they girls or boys .? How 
many are there .? Poor things ! How can you leave 


238 


ADVENTURES OF AN^EVANGELIST 


them without a mother’s or a father’s care We 
ought to be married right away so that I could take 
care of them. How old are they.^” 

“No,” said Mr. Blow rather pettishly, “you don’t 
understand me. There ain’t any orphans^ At least, 
not my children. But there is an estate. Do you 
see ? An estate. And it is to be divided. Do you 
comprehend.? Divided amongst orphans— that is, my 
great-grandfather’s heirs, and there are a great many 
minor heirs, you know — that is, young orphans; and 
the will expressly forbids the marriage of — ah — of all 
the adult male heirs. Now I have told you all about 
it, and you can perceive, I suppose, why I appear 
rather reluctant to have our relations known — that is, 
to be publicly married.” 

“Well, we might be privately married, and not have 
it known until after the estate was divided,” sug- 
gested Mrs. Weekhart. 

“Deceit is falsehood,” said Mr. Blow virtuously. 
“A lie in act is worse than a lie in word,” and he 
turned to Mrs. Weekhart with a look of rebuke — “I 
never expected to hear you — you, Mrs. Weekhart — 
advocate a breach of one of the commandments — 
a deliberate breach. One may sin from impulse, but 
to sin deliberately and of calm purpose I never 
could.” 

Mrs. Weekhart’s countenance fell, and for a while 
she said nothing. At last she asked: “How long 
would it take you to go North and attend to the bus- 
iness about the estate, and the orphans.?” 

“I don’t know,” he replied, idly contemplating the 
distant scenery, “some time.” 

“Well, about how long, two weeks.?” 

“Oh, longer than that.” 

“A month.?” 

“Yes, perhaps three or four. It takes a long time 
to attend to such business as mine.” 


/fOl^ENTURES OF El^ANGELIST 239 

“But we must be married before that.” Mrs. 
Weekhart spoke decidedly. 

Mr. Blow looked at her surprisedly; “What.?” he 
said. 

“I say that we must be married before that. I won‘t 
be trifled with. I have waited too long already. You 
needn’t care for the will. I’ve got plenty, and if you 
don’t act right, at once. I’ll tell my brother.” Mrs. 
Weekhart spoke quickly, with a trembling voice, end- 
ing with a flood of tears. The colored driver hummed 
a tune in the most absent manner, wiping his eyes 
stealthily with his shirt sleeve. Mr. Blow sat in si- 
lent confusion. He made no motion to check the 
tears of his companion, but folded his arms and gazed 
moodily at the distance. 

Presently he said abruptly to the driver, “Sam, 
how far is it to Lockport.?” 

“Dunno, sah; ten mile, I reckon.” 

“Stop, and let me walk awhile, I am tired of sit- 
ting cramped up here.” Accordingly Mr. Blow got 
out and walked ahead of the carriage at a rapid gait, 
and as l^e walked he reflected; first he thought of this, 
and then of that, and then of the other. He formed 
one plan and soon changed it for another, and after- 
ward altered it again — and what the substance oi 
his meditations was must remain unknown till the 
end of time, unless he chooses to tell; for all that can 
be said about it up to the present time is that after 
nearly an hour’s violent and quite unwonted exercise 
on foot he stopped and got into the carriage, with 
an expression on his face very different from that it 
wore when be got out. He smiled and kissed Mrs. 
Weekhart, who had regained her composure, and 
took her hand caressingly in his, saying: 

“Hannah, you are right, I have been thinking it 
all over, and I am persuaded that you are right. 
We must be married at once. I think perhaps that 


240 


/iDFENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


such a step may be conducive to greater usefulness 
in the proper sphere of evangelistic effort, the sav- 
ing of the lost. Certainly it will add to the strength 
of our relations and increase our — ah — social strength 
and prestige — as it were. I can go North and settle 
up everything there in a very little while, and as 
soon as I come back we will be married at once. 
That will give you about time to get ready^ I suppose, 
for I won’t have anything clandestine about it. It 
must be an affair befitting our — ah — our rank in life, 
you know. Don’t you think that a good plan.'*” 

Mrs. Weekhart looked somewhat pleasanter, but, 
with a still doubtful face, asked: 

“How long would you be gone.?” 

“A month, perhaps. I think I could fix up every- 
thing, and get out the proper papers in that time. I 
certainly can if court is in session, but it won’t take 
longer than five weeks anyway. You could tell me 
where to meet you on my return. Either here at 
Lockport, or at Waxahatchie, or Galveston, or any- 
where. There is only one difficulty that I can see, 
and that is — ah — don't you think it the best plan?” 

Mrs. Weekhart’s face was radiant and free from 
every cloud. She leaned confidingly against him. 

“Darling Abel,” she murmured, “you are so good. 
Yes, I agree with your plan, I have perfect confi- 
dence in your judgment. I’d like to go North with 
you, but if you think best to go alone, it is all right 
with me. I’ll wait for you here at Lockport until you 
come back.” 

“Yes, that would be best,” said Mr. Blow approv- 
ingly, while pressing her soft hand in his. “There is 
only one little difficulty, so far as I can see.” 

“What is that?” asked Mrs. Weekhart anxiously. 

“Oh! nothing of consequence, a trifling thing, but 
rather embarrassing just now — a matter of re- 
sources.” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


341 


“What is it?” she asked. 

“Well, it’s a ridiculous little thing; but the fact is 
that I haven’t got enough of the coin of this world 
to meet the necessary expenses of my journey. You 
know that I am far from wealthy — that is, until this 
estate is settled up. And my expenses have been very 
great throughout this tour, very.” Mr. Blow neg- 
lected to mention the items of his expenditure, but it 
was not necessary. His companion seemed relieved, 
and said: 

“Oh, is that all? I’ve got plenty. Just tell me how 
much you think you need and I can give it to you. I 
reckon I can get a draft cashed 'in Lockport.” 

Mr. Blow breathed a long sigh. 

“It is sad that one whose life is devoted to God, 
should be obliged to be harassed about such worldly 
matters. Few people realize as I do the danger of 
money — the root of all evil. Do you think that you 
could lend me as much as five hundred dollars?” 

“Abel darling, don’t talk so, or I will think that 
you don’t love me. Lend you? Why, it’s all yours. 
Do you think five hundred will be enough?” 

Mr. Blow went through a muttered calculation and 
said: “Well, I don’t know, perhaps I had better take 
a thousand. I might be disappointed about the es- 
tate, you know, not knowing the condition of the 
orphans, and then one must allow for lawyers’ bills 
and contingencies. But I’m afraid you couldn’t spare 
a thousand, my precious darling?” 

“Oh, yes I can. Are you sure that will be enough?” 

By the time our travelers reached Lockport it was 
agreed that Mr. Blow should take twelve hundred 
dollars, and proceed with all possible dispatch to ar- 
range his business in the North, while Mrs. Week- 
hart awaited his return, and made preparations for 
their nuptials, at Lockport. 

Quite early the next day, all the preliminaries hav- 

Adventures i6 


242 


ADyEhITURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


ing been arranged, Mr. Blow bade his engaging com- 
panion an affecting — and perhaps a rather affected — 
farewell, and took the stage for the nearest railway 
station. Mrs. Weekhart urged him to allow her to 
accompany him thus far on his journey, but he in- 
sisted that it were better not. She begged him to 
drive over in her carriage, but he resolutely declin^ 
Finally she said adieu with man)^ tears, protesting 
that she should be miserable until his return. He, 
too, assured her that he would be very unhappy — in 
fact, quite disconsolate; but that he would make all 
possible speed, and probably be able to return in three 
weeks. She might ejJpect him at the earliest possible 
moment, and he would keep her advised of every 
movement by telegraph. And so they parted, and Mrs. 
Weekhart retired to her room in the hotel to weep, 
while Mr. Blow settled himself with a self-satisfied air 
in the corner of the stage, and hummed a hymn-tune, 
and thought of the future. “I don’t know,” he said 
musingly, half aloud, “but that I had better give 
up Texas, and try my luck somewhere else.” 

“Sir.?” said his traveling companion, an elderly 
lady, who was sitting in the opposite corner, and to 
whom he had not yet paid the slightest attention. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, I was merely soliloquizing.” 

“I beg pardon, sir, I thought you spoke to me.” 

“Certainly, ma’am, certainly.” 

After a long quiet the lady said: “Beg pardon, sir, 
are you a minister.?” 

“No, ma’am — well, that is to say — not exactly. I 
am merely an humble evangelist, after the example 
of the apostles, going around seeking whom I may — 
ah — convert. I hope, ma’am, that 3^ou have expe- 
rienced religion.” 

“Yes, sir,” returned the lady with an engaging smile, 
“I have had several experiences. Ah, it is a very 
sweet thing. Are you Mr. Bigvois.?” 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


.243 


“No, ma’am. Blow is my name. The Rev Abel 
Blow, A. B., evangelist, of whom you have doubt- 
less heard.’’ 

“Oh! I thought you were holding meetings in Aus- 
tin. Seems to me I heard something about it there. 

I wanted to go myself, but I hadn’t time.” 

“No, ma’am. Well, the fact is, that I did begin a 
meeting in Austin the other day, but I could not con- 
tinue. It grieved me to leave for there seemed likely 
to be a considerable interest aroused, and probably 
many souls might have been saved; but an emer- 
gency came in the way, and I could not remain. 
In fact, I heard of the death of my mother,” — Mr. 
Blow drew out his handkerchief — “and I had to go 
to her.” 

“That’s very sad!” said the old lady, with a deep 
sigh; “I wish you could go down to Gonzales to hold 
a meeting. We do need something of the kind very 
much. The condition of the place is awful — awful. 

I was talking about you the other day to Mr. Blather, 
one of our principal men in religious matters, and he 
said that he thought we ought to secure your services 
for a meeting. We heard of your success at Waco, 
and hoped that you might come our way.” 

Mr. Blow was silent for a while, and the old lady 
went on: 

“Don’t you think that you could give us a few days 
this summer.!’ So much good might come of it.” 

“Well,” said Mr. Blow, “I don’t know, I really 
don’t know. Do you suppose any arrangement 
could be made to — ah— to defray the expenses.?” 

“Oh, yes, certainly. Mr. Blather will attend to 
that. When do you think you could come.?” 

“I can’t say, ma’am. In fact, I don’t know that 
I can come at all. My mother’s funeral, you know, 
must be attended to, and my health is somewhat im- 
paired. I am thinking about making a little trip to 
Europe this fall.” 


244 


ADP^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


*‘Well, now, if you could spare us a week or two, 
soon — it would do so much good. Mr. Blather said 
that he felt sure we could raise five hundred dollars 
for you if you would come down, just for a week, 
and how much good you might do!” The lady spoke 
very persuasively. Mr. Blow was silent. “Don’t 
you think you might be able to come V' she added. 

“Where is Gonzales.-”’ he asked. 

“Just down here a few miles. We’ll be there to- 
night, if you don’t stop at Harwood. Perhaps you 
are going there to take the train.? Oh, I do wish that 
you could go right on with me now.” 

“I shall have to go now, if I go at all. Such an 
opportunity is not to be neglected either. I don’t 
know — I think probably my brothers can attend to the 
funeral without me, but it pains me to think of being 
absent. However, the Good Book says, ‘Let the 
dead bury their dead. ’ Do you think that I would 
be detained longer than a week.?” 

“I reckon not, of course we wouldn’t expect you to 
stay longer than you felt that you could. You might 
do a good deal. Gonzales is an excellent place for 
meetings.” 

“You don’t suppose that there would be any troub- 
le about — ah — the five hundred dollars.?” 

“Oh, no, not at all. Mr. Blather will see to that.” 

“I just merely mentioned it, you know, not that I 
consider it of any importance, but I am poor in this 
world’s goods, and — ah — my expenses have been 
very heavy of late; and I had the misfortune to be 
robbed not long since. One must consider these 
things, you know. Not that I care for money, but 
‘the laborer is worthy of his hire. ’ I think.I had better 
go right on with you. I dare not neglect an oppor- 
tunity of preaching the gospel, and winning souls for 
a heavenly crown. I never let anything — not even 
the dearest relations of earth interfere with my efforts 
in behalf of the lost and the perishing.” 


ADJ/EhlTURES OF EVANGELIST 


245 


The lady expressed great joy at Mr. Blow’s deter- 
mination, and praised his high principles; and so they 
rode along in edifying conversation. 

Mr. Blow narrated the history of his efforts for the 
evangelization of Texas — at least so much of it as he 
thought would be for the edification of his auditor, 
and with such embellishments as would add to its in- 
terest and effectiveness; and the lady heard all, and 
praised all, and congratulated herself and her city 
that they were about to have such a blessing as a 
meeting conducted by Mr. Blow must necessarily be. 
She expressed her firm conviction that in one week 
of such services as he knew how to hold, every sinner 
in the town and neighborhood would be hopefully con- 
verted to the Lord. And so the day passed, and the 
sun hastened down into the west, and the brief south- 
ern twilight faded, and the moon shone out in unriv- 
aled beauty, and the stage stopped at the elderly lady’s 
door, and the travelers went in to delight the whole 
family with the news of the precious spiritual feast 
that was in preparation — And poor Mrs. Weekhart 
sat in the window of the hotel in Lockport, her eyes 
all red with weeping, and her heart thrilling with sym- 
pathy to the song of a mocking-bird, who, from a tree 
hard by, in plaintive strains bewailed the absence of 
his mate. 

“Poor bird,” she said, “he is all alone, and sad, 
and perhaps his mate is flown away never to return; 
and perhaps — ” And she wept afresh, and the mock- 
ing-bird sang louder and more sadly, until at last he 
broke off his song with a harsh cry, and flew away, 
leaving her to weep alone. 


CHAPTER XXI 


Miss Dolly Williams and her escort arrived in 
Texas without any adventure worth mentioning. 
They proceeded to the city of Galveston, and having 
secured quarters in one of the principal hotels, took 
steps to inquire the whereabouts of Mr. Blow; but 
for a long time the quest was unsuccessful. It must be 
remarked that though he appeared very much inter- 
ested, and seemed to Miss Dolly to make every possi- 
ble effort, Mr. Winter’s conduct, when out of her 
sight, seemed to display a strange indifference as to 
the object of their quest. He read the “Galveston 
News” every morning, and one would naturally think 
might have seen there something about Mr. Blow (for 
what in Texas escapes its sharp observation.^) but 
he never offered the paper to Miss Dolly, and spent 
the most of his spare time in a billiard-hall. 

It may be explained that Mr. Winters played 
billiards merely for exercise, and seemed to need a 
great deal of it. 

Moreover, all his time seemed to be spare except 
the hour or two in the evening during which he 
escorted Miss Dolly to the beach. He insisted that 
she should bathe daily, saying that the waters of the 
gulf would do her health good. So two weeks and 
more passed. “It seems very strange to me, Mr. 
Winters,” said Miss Dolly one day, as they were driv- 
ing along the beach, watching the long waves as they 
splashed lazily upon the shore, “it seems very strange 
246 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


247 


to me that we can hear nothing about Mr. Blowman, 
if he is preaching in Texas.’’ 

“Yes, indeed,” he answered dryly, “if he preach- 
ing in Texas it is strange.” 

“Why do you say that.?” she rejoined quickly, — 
“Do you doubt it.?” 

“Doubt it.? What reason is there to believe it.?” 

“Why, I heard so!” 

“Yes, I have heard a great many things in the 
course of my life. . And not a few of them were, to 
say the least, incorrectly stated. What reason is 
there for supposing that Mr. Blowman is in Texas.? 
Mrs. Grundy’s statement.? Of course anything that 
Mrs. Grundy says must be so. But then possibly 
she meant to say California or Maine or New Mexico. 
Who knows.? Old women often get things mixed. 
And as for his preaching, it is a good deal more likely 
that he is peddling patent medicines. And supposing 
him found. Ten chances to one if Mr. Smith is with 
him. Now, candidly, Dolly — I should say — Miss 
Williams, do you suppose that I would have consent- 
ed to have come on this chase if there had been in 
my opinion the remotest prospect of success.? Hardly. 
Do you think I would help you to Mr, Smith.? You, 
whom I love better than my life.? No; not I. I am 
hardly heroic enough for all that. Come, Miss Dolly, 
let us be reasonable. It is of no sort of use for us to 
look further. Mr. Smith does not care for you, even 
if you found him, and the search is hopeless. You 
cannot return home now unmarried. Say the word, 
and we will be one before the sun sets. Darling, / 
love you. Yes, desperately — more than life. I adore 
you, I worship you. See those cold waters.? I would 
plunge into them in a moment for you. Oh! my life, 

I must have you, or I shall go mad! Yes, and you 
must have me! Do you think that Mr. Smith, sup- 
posing you could find him, would take you, after you 


248 . yiDl/ENTURES OF Ah! Ei^ANGELIST 

had been alone with me so long? No, not if he is a 
man. There is no alternative. We must be married 
now. Oh, love, do not refuse me. You cannot. 
You shall not.” 

It was the first word of love that Mr. Winters had 
spoken since they had left Aurora. Miss Dolly sat 
silent with folded hands watching the sea. Mr. 
Winters presently put his hand upon hers and said 
beseechingly: 

“Don’t be angry. Please don’t be angry, love. It 
is only my absorbing love that makes me speak so !” 

Miss Dolly quietly put his hand away, and said 
icily: “We will drive back to the hotel, if you 
please, Mr. Winters.” 

Back to the hotel they drove, without another 
word. And Mr. Winters saw no more of Miss Dolly 
that night. She, poor thing, spent the night till the 
day broke over the gulf, sitting by her open window. 

“Yes,” she said to herself, “it is true what he 
sa3^s. I can never go home again unmarried. And I 
will never marry him. If I do not find Mr. Smith I 
will — yes, I will drown myself. It were better to die 
than to live away from him. But I will find him if 
he is in the world. And I know that he will have 
me! I know that he loves me!” 

Miss Dolly was not destined to be always disap- 
pointed. A few days after the events just narrated, 
she went into the parlor of the hotel to try to while 
away the heavy time. She was tired of reading, tired 
of strumming the piano, tired of everything, and she 
sat at the window watching the lazy street, the lazy 
wagons passing loaded with bales of white cotton en- 
veloped in dirty brown bagging, and the lazy people 
creeping along on the shady side of the street ; and 
she wondered whether they all were as calm as they 
seemed, and had no care but keeping as cool as pos- 
sible, or whether under their placid exterior there 


AbyENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


24d 


were blazing fires of love or hate ; deep wells of sor- 
row; aching, longing hearts. While thus occupied — 
or unoccupied — her attention was attracted by a re- 
mark made in a group of elderly ladies who were en- 
gaged in conversation near her. 

“Well, they ought to be married if they ain’t. 
That’s all I’ve got to say.” 

“Who’s that.?” queried another, who had been en- 
gaged in examining a chromo on the wall. “Who 
ought to be married.?” 

“Why, didn’t you hear what Mrs. Smith was say- 
ing.?” returned the speaker. “She says that that 
Evangelist Blow what’s holding meetings up the 
country is a-traveling around with a widder — them two 
all alone together, a-preaching and a-singing here and 
there, and ain’t never been married; and Isay they 
ought to. That’s my opinion. It’s shameful to dis- 
grace the gospel !” 

“I say they ar’n’t a-disgracing the gospel,” spoke 
up Mrs. Smith; “I think it’s a shame that two people 
can’t do good together without having evil remarks 
shot at them. Mr. Blow is a good man; I never 
heard no such sermons as his. I never felt so good 
in all my life as when I heard him preach in Waco. 
If you could just hear him preach once you wouldn’t 
think he ought to marry that woman. She ain’t 
much for a man like him. I don’t think preachers 
ought to be married, no how. They ain’t half so in- 
teresting — certainly not evangelists — they have to be 
away from home so much. Just imagine such a saint 
as Mr. Blow a-tending a baby, or a-making a fire, 
or a-washing dishes. No! He oughtn’t to marry at 
all, I say — not her, nor nobody!” 

Presently, when the conversation flagged. Miss Dolly 
sidled up to Mrs. Smith. “Do you know the Rev- 
erend Mr. Blow.?” she asked. 

“Well, no, miss, I can’t say as I knows him exactly. 


250 


/iD VENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


but I heard him preach, and he’s a powerful preach- 
er — about the best I ever did hear, and I’ve seen some 
preaching in my time. Do you know him.?” 

“No, ma’am, but I have heard of him, I think. Do 
you know whether he came from Illinois.?” 

“He came from somewhere — he ain’t been long in 
Texas — but I don’t know exactly where. But he’s a 
mighty fine preacher.” 

“Do you know whether there is a gentleman travel- 
ing with him named Smith.?” 

“I never heard that any gentleman was traveling 
with him. He had a woman who was singing at the 
meetings, of the name of Mrs. Weekhart; but I didn’t 
hear tell of no gentleman. Some folks think that it 
don’t look well for him to be traveling around with 
a widder, and them not married; but I wouldn’t never 
say nothing about that, for I think it’s the worst thing 
in the world to say anything agi’n’ anybody’s charac- 
ter, specially a preacher of the gospel.” 

“Do you know where Mr. Blow is now.?” asked 
Miss Dolly. 

“Yes, I see in the paper, this morning, that he was 
holding a great revival at Gonzales, and lots of peo- 
ple getting religion. But that ain’t nothing strange 
with such a preacher as him. He always brings out 
the mourners. Oh, he’s a powerful preacher.” 

A few minutes later found Miss Dolly in the clerk’s 
office inquiring the way to Gonzales. Besides this 
information, she also obtained a copy of the morn- 
ing’s paper where, in a letter from Gonzales, she found 
a description of Mr. Blow’s powerful preaching and 
numerous other items of interest. 

When Mr. Winters came in to dinner from his 
recreation in the billiard-hall, he found a summons 
awaiting him to attend' Miss Dolly in the parlor. He 
promptly did so. Miss Dolly abruptly announced her 
discovery of Mr. Blow’s whereabouts, and her de 


ADVEhITURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


251 


termination to proceed thither without delay. Mr. 
Winters urged upon her every possible objection 
against her doing so. He doubted .whether there 
were such a person in existence as the evangelist men- 
tioned. He was certain that it was not Mr. Blow- 
man. It could not be doubted that if it were Mr. Blow- 
man, Mr. Smith was not with him; the journey was 
long, tedious and dangerous; and finally he concluded 
with another violent declaration of his own passion, 
pleading with her to give up the unwomanly search 
for one who did not care for her, and to accept the 
love of one to whom she was dearer than life. Miss 
Dolly remained firm. She reminded him of his prom- 
ise to assist her, and upbraided him with unfaithful- 
ness in carrying it out. She begged him not to de- 
sert her, though declaring that go to Gonzales she 
would if she had to go alone, and finally she promised 
that if she failed to find Mr. Smith with Mr. Blow or 
to hear some definite news of him, she would look no 
further but yield to Mr. Winters’ entreaties, and 
marry him. These terms Mr. Winters considered 
safe. He had seen occasional notices of Mr. Blow in 
the papers ever since they had arrived in Galveston, 
and had never found any allusion to Mr. Smith as 
being in his company. From this he inferred that 
Mr. Smith had no connection at all with Mr. Blow, 
and that their simultaneous disappearance from Aurora 
was merely accidental. Weighing these considerations 
he concluded that his prospects of success with his 
suit for Miss Dolly’s hand would not be imperiled by 
a trip to Gonzales. Even if this evangelist were the 
Blowman whom they sought, he would undoubtedly 
deny all knowledge of Mr. Smith, of Illinois, and of 
himself. Miss Dolly had had no personal acquaintance 
with him. She could not identify him at all. So 
with a tolerably light heart, though an appearance of 
great reluctance, Mr. Winters consented to the plan 


252 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


that Miss Dolly proposed, stipulating again that if 
Mr. Smith was not found at Gonzales, nor any clear 
trace of him discovered there. Miss Dolly should be- 
come his wife with no more delay; and both proceed- 
ed to make the necessary preparations for their 
journey. 

This is a short chapter, but an appropriate head- 
ing for the next having suggested itself, it will be 
necessary to begin it right away. 


CHAPTER XXII 


‘The best laid plans of mice and men 
Gang aft agley; 

And leave us naught but grief and pain 
For promised joy.” 

[This sentiment is supposed to be due to Robbie Burns; but he was a 
notorious rogue, and no doubt borrowed it from Solomon.] 

It was a dark, dank, dismal morning that saw Mr. 
Winters and Miss Dolly disembark from the San 
Antonio Express at Harwood, the nearest railroad 
station to the town of Gonzales. “All aboard,” yelled 
the conductor. “Ding-dong, Ding-dong,” responded 
the locomotive; and our friends looked regretfully 
after the rear end of the comfortable sleeper as it 
whirled off around a neighboring curve, and then took 
a survey of their surroundings. On the other side of 
the track from the station-house was the virgin forest, 
with a board shanty or two standing amongst the 
trees. The rest of the town fif it had any rest) was 
invisible. 

“How do you get from here to Gonzales” queried 
Mr. Winters of the damp looking party who was haul- 
ing his luggage under shelter of the projecting eaves 
of the station-house. 

“By stage,” was the laconic reply. 

“Where is the stage office.?” 

“At the hotel!” growled the other. 

“Well, where is the hotel.?” 

The baggage-man made no reply, except by an in- 
definite jerk of his thumb toward the station-house, 
and demanded: 

“This your trunk.?” 


353 


254 


jlD^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“Yes,” said Mr. Winters. 

“Gimme your check.” 

Mr. Winters made no reply; and the baggage-man, 
having secured the check, disappeared within the 
station, closing the door after him with a bang. 

Mr. Winters seated Miss Dolly on the trunk, and 
proceeded to reconnoiter the surroundings. After 
a time, he returned with the information that he had 
found the hotel, and that the Gonzales stage was due, 
but detained probably by the state of the roads. He 
thought that Miss Dolly had better go over to the ho- 
tel to await its arrival. They proceeded accordingly 
around the station-house, and crossed a wide, muddy 
street to a straggling row of rough-board houses, one 
of which was the hotel. 

It was an exceedingly rough structure, in the most 
primitive style of architecture, made indeed of un- 
dressed boards nailed upright to a framework, with 
no attempt at finish, outside or in, except an ancient 
coat of whitewash, and — but why attempt a descrip- 
tion.? You could not understand it, gentle reader, 
unless you have “been there.” If you have, descrip- 
tion is useless. Our travelers entered the office par- 
lor, sitting-room, dining-room, all in one, seated 
themselves on chairs bottomed with rawhide, and wait- 
ed. The room was also the postoffice, and several of 
the townsmen were assembled there to get their mail, 
and discuss the news. Mine host was a rough, but 
kind-hearted man, who did all in his power to make 
his guests comfortable, assured them that the stage 
would probably come along directly, and regaled 
them with fried bacon and eggs and boiled cabbage. 
And so they waited and watched the loungers come 
and go, looking curiously at their slouchy habits, and 
suspiciously at their openly worn revolvers, while 
listening to their accounts of a fracas that had occurred 
a day or two before in a neighboring village, and had 


ADyEhlTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


255 


resulted in the death of one or two innocent parties. 
The day wore heavily and damply on, and still the 
stage did not arrive, and nothing occurred to relieve 
the intolerable tedium of their waiting. Miss 
Dolly grew melancholy. Mr. Winters grew impa- 
tient. “’Fraid you’ll have to put up here to-night,” 
said the hotel-keeper consolingly. “Reckon some- 
thing’s happened to the stage.” 

Just at this juncture an ambulance stopped at the 
door. It was supported on three wheels and a pole, 
was drawn by a pair of jaded-out mules, and was 
covered with mud from top to bottom. 

“Hallo, inside!” shouted a harsh voice from the ve- 
hicle. 

“Hallo!” responded mine host, stepping quickly to 
the door. 

“Got any room for travelers.?” said the man in the 
ambulance, showing his face (a young, fine-looking 
face, but stern and rough). “My avalanche’s broke 
down, and my mules is played out. I reckon we’ll 
have to stay here till to-morrow.” 

“All right. Plenty of room,” responded mine host. 
Which way did you come.?” 

“From Lockport,” answered the young man, get- 
ting out of his sorry turn-out. 

“Where’s the stage.? Seen any thing of it.?” 

“Yes, it’s waiting t’other side of Plum Creek. It’s 
a-booming, I tell you. I had to swim for it. I’d a 
gone back to Lockport, but I’ve got some particular 
business down this way, and couldn’t wait. Do you 
know whether there’s a feller named Blow a-preaching 
in Gonzales now.? I heard he was there the other 
day.” 

“Oh, yes. They’re having a high old time. Big re- 
vival going on, and I heard that Blow was going to 
join the Baptists.” 

“Well, I want to be there at the baptizing, that’s 
all.” 


256 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


By this time the young man had succeeded in ex- 
tricating from his disabled ambulance, first a valise 
or two, and then a lady, whom he led into the hotel. 
Mr. Winters and Miss Dolly looked with considerable 
interest on the new arrival. 

“Sit down, Hannah,” said the young man, “while I 
look after the team.” 

Hannah sat down accordingly. She was a young 
woman, with a round, plump figure, and an exceed- 
ingly fair face, dressed in semi-mourning. Miss Dolly 
approached her at once with offers of dry clothing, 
and soon an acquaintance was struck up, which grew 
as the evening advanced. 

To make a long story short, our friends were in- 
vited to share the accommodations of the ambulance 
to continue their journey the following day, as there 
seemed little prospect of the arrival of the stage. A 
miserable, wet night was succeeded by a worse day. 
The young man (whom they soon discovered to be 
Hannah’s brother) succeeded in having his vehicle re- 
paired, and somewhat after noon the whole party 
bade farewell to their dreary stopping-place, and took 
. the southward road through the still falling rain. 
Somehow it happened that Mr. Winters shared the 
seat with the handsome young stranger. Of course 
it was wholly accidental. He felt an interest in her 
that he could not explain. Her smile was very sweet, 
her voice was low and musical, her hand was small 
and soft. (He had held it for a moment as he helped 
her into the carriage.) And though she seemed some- 
what silent and melancholy, she was not nearly so 
much so as Miss Dolly, and he soon succeeded in 
drawing her out amazingly, and they were presently 
the best of friends. Before long an interchange of 
small confidences began. She was a widow, he was 
a bachelor. She was a Texan, he was a New Yorker. 
She had cattle and land, he had stocks and bank 


^Dl^ENTURES OF /IN EVANGELIST 


257 


accounts. His name was Winters, hers was Week- 
hart. 

The rain poured down heavily and heavier. The 
mud was deep and stiff. The beasts were tired. The 
evening drew on apace. The driver grew angry and 
impatient, and swore sollo voce. It grew darker; the 
road became invisible; splash, splash, they went 
through mud and water. The occupants of the am- 
bulance sat in silence a long while. Finally Mr. Win- 
ters suggested that the road was very rough ; and 
so indeed it seemed, for the ambulance rolled and 
pitched like a vessel in a storm, and presently, with 
a loud crack, came to a stand-still. 

“Whoa!” shouted the driver with an oath. “Rough 
road.^ I don’t reckon there’s any road at all. Curse the 
mules! Who’d a-thought they’d a-took across the 
prairie. We’re in the hog-wallers — that’s where we 
are.” 

“The what.!^” asked Mr. Winters. 

“The hog-wallers!” 

“What are hog- wallows.?” asked Miss Dolly, inno- 
cently. 

“The prairie,” answered the driver. “We’ve left 
the road, and are out on the prairie somewhere, and 
the tongue of the avalanche’s broke, and I reckon 
we’ll have to stay where we are unless I can find a 
house. I wish I had my hands on that feller. Blow, 
now. He’ll pay for getting me into this fix.” The 
speaker got out and proceeded to ej^amine the ground. 
He found his conjecture correct. The ambulance 
stood on a rough, grassy prairie. He groped round 
all sides as far as he dare go in search of a road, but 
no road was to be found. 

During his absence Miss Dolly said to Mrs. Week- 
hart, “What Mr. Blow is it that your brother is speak- 
ing of — the evangelist of that name.?” 

“Yes,” assented Mrs. Weekhart. 

Adventures 17 ‘ 


258 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“Do you know Mr. Blow.?” 

“Yes, somewhat,” answered Mrs. Weekhart re- 
servedly. 

“I suppose you have heard him preach.?” 

“Yes,” very stiffly. 

“Is there a gentleman traveling with him named 
Smith.? Mr. J. S. Smith.?” 

“No. There was when he first came to Texas, I be- 
lieve, but he found some relative at Cleburne, and 
left Mr. Blow.” 

“Where is Cleburne.?” 

“Up in North Texas. But he ain’t there now. I 
think his uncle lives down in Gonzales County some- 
where.” 

“Then Mr. Smith is not with Mr. Blow now.?” 

“No.” 

“Do you think Mr, Blow knows where he is.?” 

“No, I am sure he does not, or — that is — I don’t 
think he does. Mr. Smith treated him very badly, I 
heard.” 

“I don’t believe it,” said Miss Dolly sharply. “More 
likely it was the other way. Mr. Smith is a gentle- 
man and Mr. Blow is a scoundrel. I know all about 
him.” 

As this was a conclusion with regard to Mr. Blow’s 
character at which Mrs. Weekhart had been gradual- 
ly arriving, she knew not what to reply. Presently 
she asked, “Do you know Mr. Blow.?” 

“I know enough about him,” said Miss Dolly. 

“I wish you would tell me what you know. I have 
special reasons for asking.” Miss Dolly assented and 
gave a sketch of Mr. Blow as she knew him, including 
his heartless desertion of his wife, which she dwelt 
upon with great pathos. 

“I’m so glad you have told me all this before we 
got to Gonzales,” said Mrs. Weekhart with fervor. 
“I have been engaged to Mr. Blow, or Blowman, as 


^D^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


359 


you call him, and he left — I mean my brother and I 
were just going on to make him — that is, to find him 
in Gonzales. Oh, I hate him — the villain! the scoun- 
drel! That is just the way he would have served me. 
Marry him.^^ I hate him! I wish brother had — ” Mrs. 
Weekhart burst into tears. Her head fell naturally 
enough upon Mr. Winters’ shoulder, who gallantly 
endeavored to console her; and in the midst of this 
scene, which the dense darkness rendered invisible, 
the brother returned to the ambulance and announced 
his intention of firing his revolver to attract the at- 
tention of any one who might be within hearing. A 
quick flash followed, and Mrs. Weekhart sat up as 
suddenly as though the ball had struck her. The re- 
port rang out through the heavy air. There was no 
response except the drip of the unwearying rain. 
Again the pistol was fired, and again. After the 
third discharge there came booming back through the 
pitchy darkness an uncertain sound that might have 
been thought an echo by one less skilled in such 
things than Mrs. Weekhart’s brother. 

“There’s somebody, anyway,” he said, and after an 
interval fired again. This time the response came 
more clearly. “He’s coming this way,” said the young 
man, and waiting still longer again discharged his re- 
volver. The reply came quite sharply, and after a 
few minutes a faint “Hallo.” 

“Shout if you can, Mr. Winters,” said the young 
man, “I’m too hoarse.” 

Mr. Winters put his head out of the ambulance 
and shouted loudly and clearly. It was answered sev- 
eral times, and presently they heard the splash, splash, 
of a horse’s feet on the wet ground. 

“Hallo!” said a voice. 

“Hallo!” said the young man. “Do you know 
where the road is.^^” 

“No, do you.?” 


260 


ADyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“No!” 

The stranger’s horse stopped close to the ambu- 
lance and he said: “I say, stranger, I started for 
Gonzales this morning, but it’s a beastly hard place 
to find in the night. Are you lost too Miss Dolly 
sprang out of the ambulance crying, “I know that 
voice 1 That’s you, Jacob, that’s you! Don’t you know 
Dolly.?” 

Mr, Smith, for it was no other, seemed to know. 
He was off his horse in a twinkling. It was a moist 
occasion. Even the clouds cried — in fact, they had 
been at it for some time. Miss Dolly weeped, and so 
did Mr. Smith, and what else they did nobody could 
see. It was too dark for that, but there were sundry 
sounds that sounded less doleful than sobs. Mrs. 
Weekhart cried, but Mr. Winters did not. All the cry- 
ing w-is soon over, however. Even the sky dried its 
face, and wiped its eyes, and an hour after Mr. 
Smith’s arrival the stars were shining brightly, and so 
were Miss Dolly’s eyes, and so was a fire that the 
united efforts of Mrs. Weekhart’s brother and Mr. 
Smith and Mr. Winters succeeded in kindling with 
some very wet brushwood that they managed to find 
in the neighborhood. Seated around this fire on the 
seats taken from the ambulance, our party, though 
all wet, and all tired, and all hungry, enjoyed them 
selves amazingly. A general explanation took place, 
and a general interchange of confidences. 

People living among the conventionalities of civil- 
ized life have no conception at all of the rapid devel- 
opment of friendship, and even of warmer feelings, 
that is fostered by such circumstances as those here 
narrated. Mr. Winters even confessed the attach- 
ment that he had felt for Miss Dolly, and the inter- 
ested motives that had led him to accompany her upon 
what he regarded as her utterly hopeless quest for 
Mr. Smith. But after all he was glad that it had 


^D^ENTURES OF Ah! EVANGELIST 


261 


been so unexpectedly successful. He heartily con- 
gratulated both of them, and said that his own affec- 
tion for her was more whim than feeling; that he had 
hoped to unite their families and fortunes, but on the 
whole was rather glad that he was disappointed, es- 
pecially since he had found that love was more than 
fancy: and he glanced meaningly at Mrs. Weekhart’s 
face who sat next him. She blushed. He could see 
that, even by the fire-light. 

A long silence fell over the party. At last Mr. Win- 
ters spoke out, at the same time boldly raising his 
hand which had been hidden between himself and 
Mrs W — and in which hers was clasped, and laying it 
in the sight of all upon his knee. “I say, Mrs. Week- 
hart’s brother — I don’t know any other name for you 
— there is no use of mincing matters. You are an 
outspoken fellow, and so am I. I love your sister. 
I loved her from the first moment my eyes fell on 
her. I love her better than anything in the world, and 
I want to marry her to-morrow. I am rich, and re- 
spectable, and I have reason to believe that she loves 
me. What do you say to it.?” 

“Now that’s what I call business,” answered the 
other. “I like you. What do you say, Hannah.? How 
about Blow.?” 

“I hate him!” said Mrs. Weekhart, and she proceed- 
ed to tell what she knew about Mr. Blowman’s past, 
Miss Dolly and Mr. Smith rounding up the story. 

“Well!” ejaculated the widow’s brother. “He’s a 
worse one than I thought. I was a going to his wed- 
ding to-morrow. And not very willingly either. But 
now he’s not going to be married. That’s settled. 
We’ll have a wedding, though — two of them. But 
I’m not done with Blow, or Blowman, or whatever 
his name is. I’ll fix him! Danged if he shan’t ride 
a yaller steer before I get through with him — the 
whining, thieving, lying, swindling scoundrel!” 


262 


yiD^ENTURES OF AN EyANGELIST 


The dawn began to appear on the eastern sky, and 
Mrs. Weekhart’s brother, having vented his feelings, 
began to busy himself with his broken vehicle, which 
by sunrise was in a state to bear them onward. Know- 
ing now the points of the compass, he was not at all 
disconcerted by the lack of a road, and the party was 
soon riding southward over the sodden prairie, and 
in the course of an hour sighted the town, which they 
entered ere long, taking their way to a hotel, where 
very soon dry clothes, hot coffee and a bountiful 
breakfast made them forget the discomforts of the 
past night. And indeed a jollier, happier party could 
scarcely be found in the whole state of Texas. 

The inquiries of Mrs. Weekhart’s brother soon elic- 
ited the fact that the day was one of great religious 
importance to the community. A monster revival had 
been in progress for some time. Many converts had 
been made. Mr. Blow, the leading figure in the 
work, had declared his adherence to the Baptist 
cause, and had advocated it so ably that himself and 
thirty others were that very day to be immersed in 
the Guadalupe River, which ran conveniently by. 

But here ends the chapter. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


“give the devil his due” 

“Come, Brother Winters, I’ve got to go to the bap- 
tizing. I’m going to take a hand in the ceremonies. 
Are you in for it 

“Now, brother, don’t go,” pleaded Mrs. Week- 
hart, “you’ll get into trouble, and like enough get 
hurt.” 

“Oh, hush, Hannah. Give us a rest. I tell you 
I’ve got to play dancing-master. Have you got a 
shooting-iron. Brother Winters.^” (Mr. Winters nod- 
ded assent.) “I don’t know that we’ll need ’em, but 
its best to be prepared. You’ll go along, Smith?” 

Smith glanced at Miss Dolly. “I wouldnU: miss it 
for anything,” he said. 

So the three went off together and wended their 
way toward the river, one of many groups of people 
traveling in the same direction. 

“What are you going to do?” asked Smith, Ss they 
walked along. 

“Well, I think the best thing will be for me to 
give in an experience, if there’s a chance. I’ll make 
one anyhow. And when I get through I pity old 
Blow. There’ll be plenty of boys there, all ready for 
some fun.” 

But a short distance behind our three friends was 
a carriage moving slowly in the same direction. 
Within this vehicle sat four gentlemen and Mr. Blow, 
conversing as they rode. A single glance would have 
been sufficient to convince anybody that his compan- 
263 


264 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


ions were ministers; at least their black clothes and 
white neckties seemed to indicate as much. One 
of the worthy parsons said: “I am rejoiced, Mr. 
Blow, that you have seen your way clear to take this 
important step that we are to-day about to consum- 
mate, as it were. It will give your labors in this 
community vastly greater efficiency, so to speak, for 
the reason that the people hereabouts are, as you 
might say, solid on the point of baptism.” 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Blow. “I agree with you 
entirely, Mr. Ducker. But let us not at the eleventh 
hour misunderstand each other. I have endeavored to 
make it plain in our conferences that I yield only the 
historical point — you understand. I concede that it 
is probable, merely probable, that our Lord was im- 
mersed in the Jordan, and that it is well enough to 
follow his example, which I am willing to do for the 
sake of the influence — ah — that is, the power of ex- 
ample. But I am not willing to commit myself to the 
statement that immersion is necessary to salvation. I 
don’t believe in ordinances, sir. Religion is of the 
soul. Conversion is the great thing. If a man is 
once converted, he is saved from hell: and you know 
as well as I that conversion is the only thing of con- 
sequence. That is what the Scripture means by bap- 
tism, in most places.” 

“Well, I can’t wholly agree with you; can you. 
Brother Plunger.? Don’t you esteem immersion a 
saving rite.?” 

“Hem,” said Bro. Plunger. “That depends on the 
meaning you attach to the word saving. Now, I am 
not willing to limit it so as to exclude our fellow- 
Christians from heaven. I would apply it solely to 
church fellowship. As Brother Blow very justly ob- 
serves, spiritual experiences far outrank mere rites. In 
fact, I think the mass of our modern divines, while main- 
taining the absolute necessity of following Christ down 


ADVEhlTURES OF Ah! EFANCELIST 


265 


into the water, as a matter of form and discipline, 
agree that the ordinance has no magical power to work 
a change of heart. To state the matter clearly, one 
must be baptized to be saved, but baptism has no 
spiritual effect. The church requires us to have faith 
before baptism, and simply limits her communion, 
not the number of the elect, to those who are im- 
mersed.” 

^^Your church, you mean,” said No. 3, with some 
asperity. “Thank God, zue believe in open commun- 
ion. We have too much charity to shut our brethren 
out from God’s table.” 

“Well, brethren,” said Bro. Ducker pacifically, “this 
is no time for theological discussion. Let us leave 
that to its sphere. We are all at one on the great 
point of immersion, and are united in being buried 
with Christ under theVater. Let us love as brethren, 
and not allow our good work to be spoiled by any 
minor dissensions, at this supreme moment.” 

Said Mr. Blow: “I agree entirely with Brother 
Ducker, but I am anxious to have it plain that I 
commit myself to no point of doctrine in this matter. 
It is wholly a question of practice, and I yield for 
the sake of the influence — that is, its power for good 
over the people.” 

“Here is the place,” said Bro. Plunger, as the car- 
riage drew up near the river-side, where a considera- 
ble company was assembled. “But I do not think 
that the candidates are quite all here yet. Suppose 
we indulge in some spiritual exercises before pro-, 
ceeding to administer the rite.? A word of exhortation 
with Bro. Blow’s accustomed eloquence might have 
a happy effect on this solemn occasion.” 

This suggestion met the hearty assent of all, and 
the party of divines descended from their conveyance, 
and ascended a little knoll, when Bro. Plunger called 
the crowd around, and having explained their inten- 


2CC ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

tion, gave out a hymn. The hymn having been sung, 
two lines at a time, Bro. Ducker offered prayer — a 
very skillful prayer, thanking God for the superior 
knowledge and consistency of the close-communion 
Baptists, to the manifest annoyance of his open-com- 
munion brother. A passage from the Scripture was 
then read describing the baptism of our Lord, and 
Brother Blow was announced as about to say a few 
words. 

Mr. Blow was in a happy vein. He announced his 
text: “‘And he said, I beseech thee, show me thy 
glory. ’ 

“That was a large request to make. He could not 
have asked for more: ‘I beseech thee, show me thy 
glory.’ Why, it is the greatest petition that man 
ever asked of God,” etc. (For the remainder of the 
discourse the curious reader is referred to Spurgeon’s 
Sermons, Second Series.) 

It was delivered with great power and unction, and 
held the hearers spell-bound. Several of them 
seemed very much affected. Three young men espe- 
cially who sat upon a log not far from the speaker, 
seemed much moved and continually interrupted him 
with groans, and outcries of “Amen!” “That’s sol” 
“ Go in, parson 1” one of them even venturing to remark, 
“That’s what got the yaller steer” — an allusion that 
so disconcerted Mr. Blow that for a moment he was 
unable to proceed, and Bro. Ducker stepped down 
to admonish the young men to restrain their feelings 
until the sermon should be concluded. This admo- 
nition would probably have been disregarded, but that 
it was reinforced by some strong hints in the crowd 
around that, if they did not “hold their jaw,” they 
might be thrown into the river. 

The sermon was finally finished, and after another 
disjointed hymn, Bro. Plunger called upon any that 
felt moved so to do, to come out on the Lord’s side. 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


2G7 


Three or four with tears confessed themselves con- 
vinced of the error of their ways. Then Mrs. Week- 
hart’s brother arose, and advanced, wiping away im- 
aginary tears with his coat-sleeve, and asked Bro. 
Plunger if he might give in an experience. “Certainly, 
brother, certainly,’’ said Bro. Plunger, while Mr. 
Blow looked at him suspiciously. The young man 
turned to the crowd and said: 

“I ain’t much on speechifying; but Pve got some- 
thing to say to you fellers, if you’ll let me, and it 
ain't about your souls neither. This feller what’s 
been preaching here, is a hypocrite, and a lying, whin- 
ing horse-thief, and a scoundrel what goes around 
swindling people. He ain’t no preacher at all, but a 
scalawag. He run away from his wife and children 
up North, and set up for a preacher on his own ac- 
count. He's a thief, and I can prove it. He run away 
from his family and left his wife to die of a broken 
heart, and he knows it. He’s a black-hearted liar, 
and I’m one that will help to tar-and-feather him and 
ride him on a rail.” 

This oratorical effort created an immense excitement. 
Loud cries arose from the surging crowd. “Put him 
down!” “Pitch him in the river!” “Ride him on a 
rail!” Mr. Blow, with face as white as wax, started 
to walk off as fast as his legs could carry him. “Stop 
that lying preacher!” shouted the young man. Mr. 
Smith headed off Mr. Blow. 

“You’re not going away from here this way. Blow- 
man,” said he, 

“Oh, Smith, dear Smith, save me! Smith, don’t 
let them drown me! I’ll pay you. I’ll give you 
everything I’ve got, but don’t let them hurt me.” 

“Nevermind; they shan’t kill you,” said Mr. Smith, 
“I don’t want your dirty money, but I want to see the 
right thing done.” The crowd was very much divided. 
Some cried to hang Mr. Blow; some shouted to 


268 ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

throw his accusers into the river; and there were 
evident signs of brewing violence — some even had 
their revolvers in their hands, when Mr. Ducker 
mounted a log, and shouted: “Lynch! Judge Lynch, 
step out here, and settle this matter, or there’ll be 
somebody hurt.” 

Judge Lynch, a burly man who seemed to have 
great influence over the throng, at once sprang upon 
a stump and shouted, “Order, order! Stop your noise 
there, will you! Listen to me!” 

Quiet being measurably obtained he proceeded: 

“Now, boys, we all want to do the fair thing, don’t 
we.^ (Cries of Yes! yes!) Well now, if what this young 
fellow says is true, this preacher ought to be ridden 
out of town on a rail, and if it ain’t true his accuser 
ought to be thrown into the river for saying it. Now, 
don’t let anybody leave the grounds, till we try the 
case. Here, make a ring. Brown, you’ll do for sheriff; 
impanel a jury, will you, and let every fellow say his 
say.” 

The impromptu court was soon organized. Judge 
Lynch -sat on the woolsack — the top of a stump — a 
jury of twelve men were selected, placed upon a fall- 
en log, and duly sworn by the extempore sheriff. The 
ladies who had come to the baptizing, by this time had 
taken their departure, save a few bold spirits who 
stood at a distance to witness the proceedings. 

“Now, boys,” said the judge to the crowd, “we all 
bind ourselves to stand by the verdict .?” All assented. 

Here Mr. Blow, seeing the danger of immediate 
violence past, plucked up a little courage and said: 

“I object to these proceedings, I demand to be set 
at liberty. You have no right to — ” 

“Now, look here, parson,” said the judge, “you’d 
better hold your tongue, and let the court proceed. 
We propose to see the fair thing, and if you kick, 
I won’t answer for your being ducked a time or two.” 


^D^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


269 


“Yes, Bro. Blow,” said Bro. Ducker, “it’s best to 
be quiet. We’ll get justice done.” So Bro. Blow 
held his peace, and sat down in considerable trepi- 
dation. “The court is opened,” said the judge. “Mr. 
Sheriff, bring in the plaintiff.” 

“Come, young feller,” said the sheriff, “stand up, 
and say your say.” 

Mrs. Weekhart’s brother stood up, and said, “I 
ain’t got nothing to say but what I have said already. 
This feller. Blow, that’s been a-preaching here, his 
name ain’t Blow at all, but Blowman; he used to 
live up in Illinois somewhere. He left his wife and 
children, and run off with some money, and comedown 
here and set up for a preacher, and he’s been going 
around the country lying and swindling; and I say he 
ought to be tarred and feathered. Here’s a man here 
that knowed him at home and can tell all about him.” 

“Is that all you’ve got to say.?” demanded the 
judge. 

“Yes, that’s about all.” 

“Sit down then. Mr. Sheriff, put the witness on 
the stand.” 

“Come, you feller, stand up,” said the sheriff to Mr. 
Smith. 

“Do you know the prisoner at the bar.?” asked the 
judge. Mr. Smith nodded assent. 

“Tell us all you know about him.” Mr. Smith 
proceeded to give a circumstantial account of his ac- 
quaintance with Mr. Blow, omitting nothing. 

“Is that s.\\ have to say.?” asked the judge, 
when he had concluded. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Smith. 

“Plaintiff, have you got any more witnesses to bring 
before this court .?” asked the judge. 

“No, I don’t reckon it needs any more,” said the 
young man confidently. 

“Have you got anything more to say?” 


270 


ADVEhlTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


“No.” 

“Very well then, plaintiff rests the case. Bring in 
the defendant.” 

“Here he is,” said the sheriff pointing to Mr. Blow. 

“Well, defendant,” asked the judge, “what have 
you got to say to these charges.?” 

Mr. Blow arose and looked around. The company 
evidently regarded him with disfavor; even the min- 
isters stood apart. He plucked up his courage and 
in the energy of despair said: 

“Gentlemen, I don’t think that you have any right 
to detain me here, or to listen to these men. But 
since I must speak, I will. I appeal to your justice 
in this matter. Now as for these charges against my 
character, they are simply false. I have no family, 
nor ever had. I never lived in Illinois. I was born 
in North Carolina. My father is an eminent Metho- 
dist minister there, the Rev. James A. Blow, and two 
of his brothers are ministers also. I have a brother 
who is district attorney, John P. Blow, another who is 
sheriff of Wildcat County, L. R. Blow. A telegram 
to any of these men, or to any prominent man in the 
state will show you who I am, and that these fellows 
have trumped up this story to injure my character, and 
to ruin my work here” — 

“It’s a lie!” broke in Mrs. Weekhart’s brother. 

“Order in the court!” cried the judge. 

“Well, I don’t propose to have him stand up there 
and lie like that!” retorted the indignant young man. 

“Look here!” said the sheriff. “You’ve got to keep 
mum, or you’ll get hurt ; you’ve had your say, and the 
parson’s got to have his.” 

Mr. Blow felt encouraged, and proceeded: “Yes, 
it’s done to injure my work. I came to Texas some 
months ago at the urgent invitation of many influential 
friends. You know Rev. Mr. Sturmup of Waco.? 
("turning to Mr. Ducker) He was one of them. I have 


y4^^ENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


271 


worked with the ministers in Waxahatchie, Waco, 
Belton, Austin, and many other places. Ask them 
whether J am a liar, or a thief, or a swindler. Nay, 
brethren, my work here speaks for me, have I not 
preached the gospel faithfully.? And what reward have 
I received beyond a few paltry collections.? Whom 
have I swindled.? Whom have I lied to.? Whom 
have I stolen from .? I defy them, or anybody, to bring 
any evidence against my character that would stand 
for a moment in a court of justice. And suppose, 
now, for the sake of argument, that all the things 
that they say were true. That I had unpaid debts, 
and a family at home, and had assumed a false name, 
and had received large sums of money by collections 
in various places, are they such dreadful crimes.? Can 
a man be hung for being in debt.? or drowned for hav- 
ing a wife and children .? or ridden on a rail for altering 
his name.? or abused because friends have seen fit to 
give him money.? But they are not true, not one of 
them. They are false lies that these fellows have 
trumped up to break up my work here in Gonzales.” 
Mr. Blow saw that he was producing a favorable 
effect, and proceeded with increasing spirit. 

“I know these men, both of them. This one — I 
don’t remember his name — but he is a rough, who 
lives in the northern part of the state, and on several 
occasions tried to break up my meetings. On one 
occasion he attempted to shoot me because I rebuked 
his wicked and violent behavior in public. He vowed 
to take revenge on me, and no doubt has followed me 
here for that purpose. He is a notorious scoundrel 
who is only unhung because he has managed to elude 
the officers of the law.” 

Mrs. Weekhart’s brother sprang to his feet, and 
drew his revolver, only to find himself disarmed and 
pinioned by strong hands. “Come, now,” said the 
sheriff to him, “we don’t take any of that. The 


272 


ADVENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 


parson shan’t be interrupted. We mean fair play 
here.” 

Mr. Blow continued: “As for this other man I 
know him well. He pretended to be converted at one 
of my meetings, and accompanied and sung for me 
some little time. But I soon found out that his only 
motive was selfish greed. He thought that the meet- 
ings would yield large collections, of which he should 
have the lion’s share, and when disappointed in this, 
he left me, after abusing me roundly, and vowed that 
he would do me some injury, and no doubt he came 
here to-day for that purpose. These, gentlemen, are 
the simple facts, and I take my stand upon them. I 
appeal to your love of justice, I beg you to defend me 
from the violence of these my causeless enemies, and 
I commit myself to God.” 

“Are you through, sir.?” said Judge Lynch respect- 
fully. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very well. Gentlemen of the jury,” said the judge, 
“you have heard the facts of the case. You will be 
allowed ten minutes to decide your opinion.” 

The ten minutes passed in perfect silence, broken 
only by whispered conversation. 

“Time’s up, gentlemen. What is your opinion.? 
Please speak in orders — one at a time. Number one, 
what do you say.?” 

Number one stood up. “Well, fellows,” he said, 
“I’m a little mixed. I rather think the parson’s got 
the best of it. I ain’t seen no harm in him since he’s 
been here. You all know I don’t go much on preach- 
ers, no how; but I suppose they means well, and I’m 
in for letting him go, and if half he says about these 
fellers is true, they ought to be ducked.” Each one 
of the jury in like manner delivered his opinion, and 
the agreement was pretty unamimous. Considerable 
excited debate followed, when the judge stood up on 


y^D VENTURES OF AN El^ANGELIST 


273 


his stump, and said, “I move that we let the parson 
go, and give them other fellows twenty-four hours to 
leave town. All in favor of the motion say. Aye.” 

“Aye!” came thundering from the crowd. “All op- 
posed, No.” A very feeble “No,” arose. “The ayes 
have it. Parson, you’re at liberty, and you fellows, 
you’d better make yourselves scarce.” Mr. Blow and 
the ministers, his friends, made their way to their 
carriage and drove rapidly to town as the crowd dis- 
persed. 

It was the dusk of the evening when Mr. Blow 
entered the house of his entertainer, a gentleman of 
some prominence in the city. Not long afterward a 
close carriage drove up to the door and presently 
drove away again in hot haste. About ten o’clock, 
three men came to the door and asked to see Mr. Blow. 
They were told that he was not in. Where was he.^ 
No one knew. 

And so, gentle reader, no one knows unto this day. 
His name is heard no more, but that does not sig- 
nify. He may have another. It is a matter much 
to be regretted, for no doubt his adventures, if they 
could be recorded, would prove interesting and in- 
structive; and Mrs. Weekhart, although now the 
happy Mrs. Winters, would be glad to recover the 
cash advance that she so trustingly made him. She 
therefore authorizes here the offering of a reward of 
$500 for any information that will lead to his discov- 
ery. It is possible that he may be still operating in 
Texas. 

The present chronicler well knows how heartily Tex- 
ans detest all sham and pretense, whether in religion 
or politics or anything else, and hereby presents his 
humble apology to them, individually and collectively, 
for having been forced to follow his hero through 
their beautiful and mighty state. 

Long may her brilliant star shine in the van of lib- 

Adventures i8 


274 ziDyENTURES OF AN EVANGELIST 

erty and progress, and long may her people be spared 
the visitation of an Abel Blow, or any of his numer- 
ous coadjutors. God bless her! 


FINIS 


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By Alfred Delpit. author of “Such is Life.” 321 pages with eight 
full-page half-tone illustrations from drawings made for us in Paris 
under the author’s own supervision. Beautiful cover in colors 
sketched bv a well-known artist. 

THE WOMAN OF FIRE. 

By Auguste Belot, author of “Mademoiselle Giraud, my wife.’* 
376 pages, with twelve full-page illustrations from the Parisian 
plates themselves, imported into this country at great expense. Ex- 
quisite cover in five colors by our own designer. 

BEL-AMI. 

By Guy de Maupassant. The master-piece of the famous author 
of “Notre Coeur” and “Pierre et Jean,” with a frontispiece in half-tone 
b 3 ' Herbert Butler, and bound in a handsome cover in two colors. 

A LIFE’S DECEIT. (Hermiuie Lacerteiix.) 

By Edmond and Jules de Goncourt. Containing 10 photo-grav- 
ures from original French Etchings. One of the leading works of the 
great realistic writers. Unique cover in colors by A. Leroy. 

(JUEEN OF THE WOODS. 

By Andr6 Theuriet, 235 pages. Illustrated with thirty-two beau- 
tiful half-tone engravings, each one a work of art. “The story is one 
of love, remarkable for its tenderness and purity.” The make-up of 
this volume is in every way unique and worth three times the money. 

MAUPRAT; or, The Bandit Noblemen. 

By George Sand. Beautifully illustrated and with a specially 
designed cover. A poignant story of love and adventures in the 
heart of a French forest. The incidents are as dramatic as the per- 
sonages are powerfully drawn. 

THE YOUNGEST BROTHER; a Socialistic Romance. 

From the German of Ernst Wichert, by “Kannida.” Specially 
illustrated by Henry Mayer. A book which has caused a deep sensa- 
tion all over Europe and America. 

THE CARTA RET AFFAIR. 

By St. George Rathborne, author of “Dr. Jack.” with sixteen 
full page engravings by Henrj' Mayer. “ Endorsed by the press, 
welcomed by the reading public.” 


Readers of good literature are advised to procure Laird & Lee’3 
Publications, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, pro- 
fusely illustrated, and bound in solid and attractive covers. 

SOLD BY ALL NEWSDEALERS AND UPON ALL TRAINS, OR SUPPLIED 

BY THE PUBLISHERS. 

LAIRD (£ LEE Chicago, 


The Library of Ohoice Fiction. 

Gro va, Month after Month, in Deserved Popularity. We steadily add to it 

tne most Prominent Works from Authors of World-wide Celebrity. 


mMONG OUR VERY LATEST ” ARE FOUND • 

DUCHESS ANNETTE. By Alexandre Dumas. Fils. 

This is one of the<ftr«« qreat turvels of Alexandre Dumas, fils, a c<'ro. 
panion to “Camille” and the “Clemenceau Case.” It is an entirely nett 
edition, from the pen of Max Manry, and with eight exceptionally fine full- 
page illustrations drawn ^ecially for this edition, by A. Leroy. Superb 
cover in four colors. Every detail new and striking. 

FRANCESCA da RIMINA. Translated from the German by “Kannida.” 

This book by ttie celebrated Gernnin autlior, Ernst von Wildenbruch, is 
a sweet and poignant story of love and love’s troubles. It takes place in 
our time, amidst a picturesque population of officers and society people. 
Not a line of this beautiful book could offend the modesty of a young girl. 
Auguste Leroy has c >ntribQte<l eiqht tull-page original illustrations of real 
ar^JBtic value; also a cover in colors extremely attractive. 

A MA.tf OF HONOR. By Octavo Feuillet. 

Written (under the title of “M. de Camors”) by the famous French 
acatlemician. Octavo Feuillet, the author of “A Parisian Romance.” the 
“iiomauce of a Poor Young Man,” and other celebrated books. “A Man 
of Honor ” is acknowle<lgod to be one of the ten greatest novels of tlie cen- 
tury. A portrait of the author, and eleven full-page illustrations from origi 
nal etchings, make this book a most superb volume. 

A beautiful cover in colors. 

SAVED BY A DREAIV9. By Consuelo. 

Fully illustrated by Auguste Leroy ana with an exquisite cover in four 
colors. This extraordinary book is a singular blending of imaginative 
power of the highest order and of striking facts interpreted by its light. 

THE MARRIAGE OF GERARD. By Andre Theuriet. 

Andr6 Theuriet, the author of “ Queen of the Woods,” and so many other 
exquisite stories of country life, is at the head or those French authors whose 
books can be placed, without reserve, into the hands of young people as well 
as older ones. His stories are captivating and filled with true pathos, and 
with the very finest descriptions of scenery and character. “ The Marriage 
of Gerard,” translated by Mary Lindsay Watkins, contains sixteen full-pa^o 
fllustrations, and a cover in several colors, designed expressly for this 
edition (the only translation extant) by Auguste Leroy. 

WHAT IT COST; OR, DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. By F. and I. E. Sullivan. 

A splendid story, capitally told, of bravery on the field and devotion at 
home. • The heart beats with the noblest emotions while the eyes peruse this 
touching and enthralling narrative, based on fact. Five full-page illustra- 
tions and unique cover by Auguste Leroy. 

SAPPHO. By Alphonse Daudet. 

Another of the ten greatest novels ever written. We have secured from 
France a set of magnificent illustrations from original etchings, which 
make our edition the finest of all in an artistic as well as literary point of 
view. This is distinctly the only edit* on of “ Sappho ” published in English 
with these superb etchings. 

Headers of good literature are advised to procure Laird & Lee’s Pub.. 

lioations, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, profusely illus- 
trated, and bound in solid and attractive covers. 

FOLD BY ALL NEWSDEALERS AND UPON ALL TRAINS, OR SUPPLIED 
BY THE PUBLISHERS. 


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AYER’S 

Sarsaparilla 

is the best. It is the only one recommended by 
physicians of standing. It was the only one admitted 
at the AVorld’s Fair. 

It is the leader among 
blood-purifiers. 

CURES 
OTHERS, 

AND 

WILL CURE 4 
YOU. 

“Having thoroughly 
tested, in my practice 
as a physician, the 
alterative action of Ayer’s Extract of Sarsaparilla, I 
view it as of uneqiialed excellence.’’ — J. F. Bourns, 
M. 1)., 100 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 

PURIFIES^ » 6 
THE BLOOD 




AVER’S RILLS CURE SICK HEADACHE 



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